


My Mountie's Keeper

by elaine



Category: due South
Genre: Drama, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-08-14
Updated: 1999-08-14
Packaged: 2018-11-10 20:12:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11133897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elaine/pseuds/elaine
Summary: When both Fraser and Thatcher go out of town for a few days, Ray is asked to keep an eye on Turnbull.





	My Mountie's Keeper

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

 

 

Ray Kowalski stared at his unofficial partner with a mixture of irritation and disbelief. "So, what you're saying is you want me to babysit Turnbull?"   
  
His voice rose sharply and Fraser winced, then rubbed the back of his thumb against his left eyebrow in a familiar gesture. "I wouldn't put it quite… ah… well, yes, Ray. I suppose I am."  
  
"I don't believe this." Ray shook his head incredulously. "Why me? Why not…" he thought better of continuing, but it was obvious enough why Fraser had chosen to ask him. The Mountie had barely exchanged more than a dozen sentences with Ray Vecchio since the other detective had returned from Florida, alone.  
  
Fraser was frowning  _and_  pouting. That was a bad sign, and Ray changed the subject hurriedly. "You and the Ice Queen are really gonna leave Turnbull alone for a whole three days? In charge of the Consulate?"  
  
"Well, we don't have much choice, Ray. The Inspector has been called to Ottawa, and my training course can't be rescheduled." Fraser sighed. "And since the Consulate will be closed for most of the weekend… well, it shouldn't be too bad." He looked at Ray hopefully. "I'll be back on Sunday evening."  
  
It was time to admit defeat. "Whaddaya want me to do, Fraser?"  
  
The handsome face brightened. "Thank you, Ray. I've instructed Turnbull to call you if anything… anything untoward should happen. I'm sure there'll be no problem, but…"  
  
Ray didn't believe that any more than Fraser did, but he shrugged. "Okay. He's got my number at home too, has he?"  
  
"Well, I didn't like to… but if you don't mind, Ray…"  
  
"Yeah, sure. Don't want ya failing that course from worrying over Turnbull. What is it, anyway? A hundred and one ways to sniff dog piddle?" Ray grinned at Fraser's resigned expression. Needling the Mountie was the perfect revenge for what he was about to endure over the next three days.   
  
*  
  
The phone rang beside his ear and Ray groaned as he reached for the receiver. God only knew what time it was, and he'd been out late working the streets on a case last night. "Yeah?"  
  
"Good morning, Detective Kowalski." Turnbull's voice was far too perky for the crack of dawn.  
  
He nearly hung up again, but he'd promised Fraser… "Turnbull do you know what time it is? And how come I'm suddenly Detective Kowalski again? You useta call me Ray."  
  
"Oh!" He could practically  _hear_  the Canadian blushing. "Well, this is official, Ray. Constable Fraser told me… and it's eight a.m. Ray. Is that too early for you?"  
  
Shit! He was going to be late for work. Ray flung the covers aside and struggled into a sitting position while Turnbull rambled on about a suspicious incident he'd seen on the way to the Consulate this morning. After a yawn and a vigorous scratching of his scalp, he was ready for a hot shower, but Turnbull was still rambling.   
  
"So you think this could be serious stuff, huh? Like maybe conspiracy to jaywalk, or sumthin'? Maybe we should call in the Feds." There was a long silence. "Turnbull?"   
  
"I'm sorry, Ray. I'm sure you're too busy to worry about this. I'll… I'll deal with it myself. I'm sure it's nothing, and I wouldn't have bothered you, except Constable Fraser…"  
  
Oh damn. Belatedly, he felt guilty for brushing the younger Mountie off like that. "No, Turnbull, tell me that again, about the two guys?"  
  
"No, I really shouldn't have… well, I won't keep you any longer. Goodbye, Detec… uh… Ray." The connection was broken with a soft click.  
  
*  
  
Two hours later Ray was at the Consulate. He would have liked to forget about the whole thing, but he'd promised Fraser, and besides, he felt bad when he remembered the hurt tone in Turnbull's voice. So, as soon as he could manage to get away from Vecchio for ten minutes, he took his car and drove over.  
  
Turnbull was behind the desk, patiently waiting for the phone to ring, or the Consulate to be invaded, or whatever it was he was there to deal with. He rose as Ray walked in, but his usually friendly smile was subdued.  
  
Better to get straight to the point. "I'm sorry about this morning. You woke me up." That sounded more accusing than it was meant to and Turnbull blushed vividly. "No. That was a good thing, otherwise I would have been even later getting to work that I was." He grinned, seeing a way out of the awkwardness. "So I owe ya one. It's just, I'm not exactly at my best when I first wake up, ya know?"  
  
It was obvious that Turnbull  _didn't_  know, but he accepted the excuse, his face brightening. "I'm sorry to have woken you, Ray."  
  
"Well, it's just as well you did. Welsh chewed me out as it was. If I'd been any later…" he shrugged. "So what was it all about? I didn't really take it in before."  
  
This time he listened as Turnbull described what he'd seen on the way to work. It seemed pretty routine; two men, too well dressed for the neighbourhood they were in, exchanging small packages, which could have contained anything from drugs to a deli sandwich. He interrupted the flow of information. If nothing else, Turnbull was observant.  
  
"Look, maybe they  _were_  up to something, but…"  
  
"Oh, I'm sure they were, Ray." Turnbull smiled brilliantly. "Their demeanour was  _very_  furtive, and they were…"  
  
"Well, maybe but…"  
  
"…they were carrying guns, Ray. Their tailoring was really quite inadequate."  
  
Ray sighed. "Of  _course_  they were carrying guns. This is Chicago."  
  
"A nine millimetre Beretta, which I believe is the weapon of choice for drugs pushers in this area." Turnbull smiled triumphantly.   
  
Ray stared at the Mountie incredulously. "You  _saw_  that from the other side of the street, when they were wearing coats?"   
  
"The larger man's coat swung open, briefly, and…"  
  
"So it  _might_  have been a Beretta."  
  
Turnbull nodded emphatically. "It was, Ray. I'm quite sure. I have very good eyesight."  
  
"Well, even if it was, that doesn't prove anything. People carry guns, okay? It's their God given right as Americans." So why did he feel like he was losing this argument?  
  
"Of course, Ray. At least…" Turnbull looked at him doubtfully, "…well, anyway, I understand you can't arrest them for carrying guns, or acting furtively…"  
  
"No, I can't." He turned to leave.  
  
"So I did some sketches of them, when I got to the Consulate. Before I called you, while the memory was fresh in my mind." Turnbull pulled open a drawer and handed him several sheets of drawing paper. "I thought perhaps they might be on your records. If they were drug dealers."  
  
He looked at the sketches. One was a full length drawing of both men, the other two of their faces. One was a profile, and probably useless, but the other was full face and distinctive. Though he'd never seen the man before, it wouldn't be hard to recognise him again.  
  
It looked like he was stuck with this. Ray heaved a longsuffering sigh. "Okay, when I've got some time, I'll get Frannie to do a search for these guys on the database."  
  
Turnbull smiled uncertainly. "Thank you, Ray. Oh! I nearly forgot. There was a car nearby. A 1998 Buick Regal, black, with a Michigan license plate. I wrote the number on the back of that sketch of the two men. I'm sure the car must have belonged to one of them."  
  
"All right. I'll check it out. But it won't be until next week. I'm up to my ears in a double homicide." He was already halfway to the door. "I'll get back to ya later." The main door swung shut on Turnbull's faint protest.  
  
*  
  
That ought to have been the end of it. As far as Ray was concerned that  _was_  the end of it. Unfortunately, Turnbull didn't seem to feel the same way. He was there at six thirty when Ray and Vecchio walked into the Bull Pen, bending over Frannie's desk. Turnbull straightened with a smile.  
  
"Hello, Ray... Detective Vecchio. I hope your investigation is going well."  
  
Vecchio simply scowled and walked over to his own desk. Ray stopped for a moment to see what the pair of them were up to. Not much to his surprise, they were searching through the police database. "It'll take the two of you a month to get through all that crap. Why didn't you check the license with the DMV?"  
  
Frannie pulled a face at him. "I tried that first. Their system's down Mr Smartypants."  
  
He shrugged. At least while Turnbull was stuck looking through hundreds of mug shots he couldn't be getting into trouble somewhere else. It might be a good thing, Ray thought. "Well, good luck. I gotta go."  
  
He went over to his desk and started checking through his messages. He'd called in favours from every snitch he knew. Surely one of them would come up with something...  _anything_... the press was having a field day with this case, and Welsh would be on their backs in the worst way if they didn't come up with a suspect soon.  
  
"What's  _he_  doing here?" Vecchio flashed a sour glance at his sister and her companion. Vecchio had been in a permanent bad mood since he got back from Florida, with not a word of explanation about why he'd come back to a job he'd been so eager to get away from.   
  
Then Welsh had assigned them as partners. He'd been tempted to turn around and go straight back to the North West Territories, with or without Fraser. And that was another sore point. Vecchio wouldn't be in the same room as Fraser if he could avoid it, and if he couldn't avoid it the pair of them would outdo each other in pretending they were deaf and blind.  
  
After two nights short on sleep, Ray wasn't in the mood to put up with Vecchio's temper. "Whatsa matter? You suddenly allergic to red?"  
  
Looking at Vecchio's face, Ray found himself wishing the words unsaid. But after a short, dangerous silence Vecchio simply walked away, past his sister and through the double doors. Ray let go a breath he didn't know he'd been holding.  
  
"Are you two bickering again?" Frannie wandered over and hitched her undeniably shapely butt onto the edge of Ray's desk.  
  
He shrugged. He hadn't asked to be partnered with Vecchio. In fact he'd rather be partnered with almost anyone else; or work alone as he had when  _he'd_  been Vecchio. Maybe if they managed to close this case soon he could lean on Welsh to let him work alone again.  
  
"You find anything?" Ray glanced over at Frannie's desk, where Turnbull was still scanning images on her computer.  
  
Frannie grinned. "Nah, but what do I care? I got a Mountie who wants to hang around with me at last."   
  
"Yeah, well I wouldn't count on too much coming from that." Ray gathered up an armful of files to take home with him. "Just keep him out of trouble, willya? I've got enough problems right now."  
  
*  
  
He spent the evening reading over the case files, the autopsy reports, and his own notes. He examined every photograph, searching for something, anything he might have missed. He found nothing new, not much to his surprise. He'd been working too hard over the last few days. He was getting stale, too tired to be able to see what was right under his nose. With a sigh, he tossed the last file onto the heap on the coffee table and rubbed his eyes. Maybe in the morning…  
  
The ringing of the phone wrenched him out of a half doze and he stumbled over to the phone to answer it. "Yeah, whatizzit?"  
  
"Ray, I found the car again." It was Turnbull's voice, excited. In the background he could hear traffic and the sound of people's conversations as they passed. "It's on West Walnut Street in the 1800 block. I'm calling from a payphone near the intersection with Wolcott Street."  
  
Shit. "Don't you go anywhere near that car, dammit. I  _told_  ya I'd look into it later." He rubbed his face, trying to think, but he was exhausted.   
  
"No, Ray, I won't. But I thought perhaps you could come have a look at it now..." There was a slight pause. "Francesca found the car was registered to Vincente Partello, Ray, but he doesn't have a record, and his address is in Philadelphia."  
  
Ray let out his breath in a long sigh. It looked like he was stuck with this. Turnbull was just as annoying as Fraser could be when he wanted something. "Look, I can't come tonight. Tomorrow I'll give the local PD a call and see if they know him. Just leave it now, will ya?"  
  
"All right, Ray." Turnbull sounded disappointed. "The car  _might_  still be here in the morning… there are a couple of parking violations against the car in the last week, and both of them are from this area."  
  
"Okay, just go home, willya? I'll meet you on the corner of Wolcott and Walnut, say…" he glanced at his watch. It was nearly midnight, and he stifled a groan. "…say eight a.m." He must be out of his mind.  
  
*  
  
Somewhat to his surprise, Turnbull wasn't there when he arrived at their meeting point next morning. Nor was the car. Ray hung around for a while, but after fifteen minutes, when Turnbull hadn't shown, he gave up and left. Welsh would have his hide if he turned up late again.  
  
It wasn't like the super polite Mountie to stand someone up without an explanation, and there were no messages waiting for him at work. But he'd no sooner arrived than Welsh was calling both him and Vecchio into his office for an intensive grilling on their performance.   
  
"With all due respect, sir, there are no witness, no apparent motive, and every snitch I know is closed up tighter than a heroin addict." Welsh shot him a sour glance and Ray shifted restlessly.  
  
"Perhaps if the two of you could bring yourselves to actually work  _together_  on this case, we might see a breakthrough." Welsh treated both of them to a prolonged scrutiny, during which they avoided looking at each other. "Think about it detectives. You're both good cops. You should be able to manage it."  
  
Ray turned to leave, but saw that Vecchio hadn't budged. "Ah, sir?" Vecchio cleared his throat. "Maybe it's just that we both work better on our own."  
  
"You  _will_  learn to work with each other gentlemen. I have no intention of reassigning you." Welsh looked down at the pile of papers on his desk. "Get on with it."  
  
So much for his hopes of dumping Vecchio. It wasn't any consolation to see that Vecchio was no happier about it than him. They walked back to their desks in silence, and Ray started reading through the files again. They'd already canvassed the area of the shootings twice, and he couldn't think of a single new thing to do.  
  
It would have helped if he could concentrate, but every time the phone rang, or Frannie came past, he expected it to be a message from Turnbull. The more he thought about it, the more worried he got.  
  
"What's eating you?"   
  
He brought his gaze back from Frannie's empty desk and meet Vecchio's unfriendly stare. "Nothin'. It's none of your business."  
  
"Fine." The thin shoulders shrugged and Vecchio lifted his receiver and dialled out.  
  
Maybe he should call Turnbull at the Consulate. Find out what had happened. But when he did he got the answer phone with a recorded message giving the office hours. The Consulate was open on Saturday mornings and it was still only nine thirty a.m. Before he could think about what Welsh was likely to say, he grabbed his keys and left.  
  
The Consulate was closed. Ray hesitated for all of two seconds and then drove over to Turnbull's apartment building, only a few blocks from where he'd seen the car. He wasn't there, and nobody remembered seeing him either the previous night, or this morning. With a sick feeling in his stomach, he drove back to the stationhouse.  
  
Frannie was back at her desk, and he hurried over with a sense of relief. Maybe Turnbull had gotten hold of her while he was out and left a message. But he hadn't.  
  
"What's wrong, Ray?" Frannie looked up at him, her usual chatty manner for once completely absent.  
  
He shrugged. "Maybe it's nothing. I was supposed to meet Turnbull this morning and he didn't show. He's not at the Consulate, or at home."  
  
By the expression on Frannie's face, she was thinking exactly the same thing he was. Turnbull was in trouble. "Where's that stuff you got on the car? Did you find anything on the owner?"  
  
"No, nothing. Not even a social security number." She held out a sheaf of print-outs. "It's gotta be a fake name and date of birth."  
  
"You're getting good at this." He grinned, distracted from his worry for a moment. "Dammit, I  _told_  him to go home. What is it with Mounties and this 'always get your man' stuff?"  
  
"What's up? Fraser's in trouble?" Vecchio's voice was harsh.  
  
Ray nearly jumped out of his skin. He hadn't heard his partner come over. Now Vecchio was reading the topmost file over his shoulder.  
  
"Turnbull's missing, Ray." Frannie was looking upset now. Ray knew she liked Turnbull a lot.   
  
Vecchio snatched the papers out of his hand and started reading them. "You think this guy's involved?"  
  
Ray resisted the urge to snatch them back. "Could be."  
  
Vecchio flipped the first page over and his lips tightened suddenly. "Then he's in big trouble. Come on." He headed out of the Bull Pen at a run, and Ray had no option but to follow.  
  
*  
  
It wasn't until they were in the Riv that Ray had a chance to find out what was going on. Vecchio threw the car into gear and stormed out of the parking compound with tyres squealing. Ray hung on grimly until Vecchio had to slow down in the busy street.  
  
"So you know this guy? Who is he? How bad is it?"  
  
"I don't know  _him_ , I know the name. It's one of half a dozen he uses." Vecchio flashed him an impatient glance. "He works for one of the Families."  
  
Shit. "So where are we goin'?"  
  
"There's a warehouse... he uses it to dump stuff until things cool down. Drugs. Bodies." Long fingers tightened on the steering wheel. "It's in the area where Turnbull saw the car."   
  
"In the 1800 block... oh, geez..." Ray closed his eyes for a moment. "Hey... you  _knew_  about this place, on  _our_  territory, and you never said anything? Whose side are you on anyway?"  
  
Vecchio laughed, but it wasn't a pleasant sound. "You still think it's the good guys against the bad guys? Wake up, Kowalski." His eyes met Ray's for a moment. "Let's just say I found out some things I wasn't supposed to know about. So why isn't Fraser all over this?"  
  
"Uh..." Ray swallowed, "...he's in Toronto on some course. The Ice Queen's in Ottawa... I mean, Inspec..."  
  
"I always called her the Dragon Lady." There was a grin on Vecchio's face but the atmosphere in the car was tense. He braked sharply as they came up on a blocked intersection and manoeuvred the large vehicle around the stalled traffic with some finesse. Once they were through he accelerated, rather more cautiously than he had earlier. The streets were quieter here, but narrower.   
  
Ray seethed with impatience. "Come  _on_! Can't you go any faster?" It had been almost twelve hours since Turnbull called him. God only knew what had happened in that time.  
  
Vecchio threw him an angry look. "Unless you want to warn everybody in a ten block radius, no, I can't." He swerved into the opposing lane to overtake a slower car and swerved back again just in time to avoid an oncoming bus. The blaring of its horn seemed to make not the slightest impression on him.  
  
"Dammit, I wish Fraser was here." Ray stared out the window, ignoring the buildings flashing past. It was only a few blocks now, and his nerves were jangling. Dief would be able to track Turnbull much faster than they could possibly find him. But then, if Fraser had been here, this whole situation would probably never have happened.  
  
Vecchio didn't respond, but his lips narrowed and his hands gripped the steering wheel tighter. Without any warning he turned left down a narrow side street.  
  
Ray sat bolt upright in his seat. "What the Hell are you doing? This isn't the right block!"  
  
"What do you want to do? Drive right up to the front door?" The words were almost snarled. "There's an access lane at the back. We'll go in that way."  
  
Another block down the road, the Riv slowed to a normal pace and turned right. Half a block further they cruised to a stop. Ray was out of the door almost before Vecchio pulled the handbrake on.  
  
"Kowalski!" Vecchio gestured to a small warehouse. "Through there. There's an overhead walkway to the next building. I'll go in the back way."   
  
It wasn't hard to find his way. The warehouse was empty. Ray ran up the metal stairs to the catwalk. On the left side of the building were the doors that lead to the walkway. He eased his gun out of the shoulder holder and slid through the doors as quietly as possible.  
  
The walkway was deserted, as he'd expected, and only a few paces long. At the other end he peered cautiously through a crack in the doors. Nothing. No sound. Releasing the breath he'd been holding, he slipped through the doors.  
  
This warehouse was different. There was still a catwalk around the outer walls, but the centre was both much larger and filled with a maze of rooms, corridors and framework built apparently at random. Some of the rooms had ceilings blocking his view some did not. There was no sign of Vecchio. He ran lightly around the catwalk, trying to check as many of the ceiling-less rooms as possible.  
  
Many of them had furniture, machinery or just piles of junk in them. Those ones would need to be checked individually. Ray tried to fix in his mind the locations of the rooms he was sure were empty. It was almost impossible. Everything would look different from ground level.  
  
By the time he'd completed the circuit of the building he was no closer to finding the errant Mountie. At least there was no sign of any criminals either. He hoped it would stay that way.  
  
"Just let me find him in one piece…" Ray groaned. "Fraser's gonna  _kill_  me."  
  
"Keep talking out loud, and he won't get the chance." Vecchio's voice, quiet though it was, made him nearly jump out of his skin.  
  
Ray turned to face his partner. "No luck?"  
  
"Nope." Vecchio gestured to the left. "I've checked all down that side. He's definitely not there."  
  
Ray closed his eyes, trying to visualise the floor plan of the building. There was an area in the middle entirely surrounded by corridors. If  _he_  was hiding someone, that's where they'd be. The only access out of the area was by a hallway running from north to south. Great place to set a trap.  
  
When he told Vecchio the other cop agreed. They edged their way into the hallway, each taking turns to cover the other. Nothing. At the junction of the hallway with the inner corridors he went right while Vecchio turned left.   
  
There were rooms on either side and many of these too were piled with junk. Luckily most of them didn't have enough to hide a man of Turnbull's size. Even so, it was taking too long. The hairs on the back of his neck were starting to rise.  
  
It took a while to recognise what was happening, then Ray turned down the long stretch of corridor that ran parallel to the central aisle and it hit him. A faint whiff of blood. That was what had been setting his nerves on edge. He eased his way along the corridor, following the scent as best he could. He wasn't Dief, or even Fraser, but he could tell the smell was getting stronger. That meant, most likely, a lot of blood.  
  
The scent weakened and he turned back. There were only three rooms it could be. The first room was completely empty. Turnbull was in the second room. Ray didn't see him at first, but the smell was very strong now and he knew Turnbull had to be in here. He made his way around a pile of some kind of insulating material, gun at the ready. Most of the rest of the piles of junk were too small to hide anyone, let alone a more than six foot tall, well built Mountie. That left only one place.   
  
A foot, sheathed in brown leather, was poking out from beneath an overturned desk. Ray dived across the room.  
  
"Vecchio, get over here!" He holstered his gun, then dragged the desk out of the way and dropped down beside the prone figure. Almost immediately he felt wetness seeping through the knees of his jeans.   
  
His first instinct was to check for a pulse, even though he would have sworn there was no sign of life. The faintest flutter proved him wrong. He rolled Turnbull onto his back and the red tunic fell open to reveal a white undershirt dark with blood at the waist. He was kneeling in a pool of it. There was more blood than he would have believed possible.   
  
Turnbull's face was deathly pale, where it wasn't bruised or abraded. It looked like he'd been worked over pretty thoroughly and then shot and left to die. He heard Vecchio's footsteps coming fast.  
  
"In here!" To his surprise, Turnbull's eyelids fluttered and lifted a little.  
  
"Ray…" It was only a faint whisper of breath. Ray leaned forward. "…knew you'd come." Turnbull smiled weakly. His eyes closed again.   
  
His hands and face were icy cold and Ray stripped off his jacket and laid it over the Mountie. He thought about trying to slow the bleeding and decided against it. He'd be bleeding just as badly internally, and pressure on the wound might only make things worse.   
  
Vecchio skidded to a halt behind him and Ray heard his quiet cursing. "I'll call 911." A moment later the cursing started again. "I can't get a signal. I'll have to go outside."  
  
"Give me your coat before you go." It was going to take too long. Ray doubted that Turnbull could last much longer, but he was damned if he'd give up.   
  
"Hang on." Vecchio strode back to the pile of insulation by the door. "This might help."  
  
Together they spread some of it out, and then went back to Turnbull. Ray felt sick, knowing that moving the Mountie was going to cause him agonising pain. He slid his hands under Turnbull's shoulders and waited for Vecchio to get a grip on his legs. Their eyes met and Vecchio gave a curt nod.  
  
They managed it pretty smoothly, but not smoothly enough. Ray heard a weak gasp from Turnbull and then they were moving. It was easier lowering him to the nest of insulation. Ray kept a hold on the Mountie, supporting him a little to make his breathing easier. Immediately the sandy head nestled in against his shoulder.  
  
"Here." Vecchio laid Ray's jacket over the wounded Mountie, and then his own coat over the top. It was Armani, and practically brand new but the other cop didn't hesitate. "I'll wait outside, so I can bring 'em in."  
  
They exchanged a look, neither of them believing that Turnbull would last until the ambulance arrived, and then Vecchio turned away.  
  
*  
  
Left alone with Turnbull, Ray came close to panic. He didn't want this. Turnbull was dying, had no chance of survival. In a few minutes, the chances were that he'd be holding a corpse in his arms. And it would all be his fault. If he'd only believed in Turnbull…  
  
A quiet sound of pain roused him from his funk. Here he was holding a dying man in his arms and he was feeling sorry for himself? He raised his free hand to cradle the sandy head a little closer against his shoulder.  
  
"Hey, Turnbull? It's gonna be okay. You just gotta hold on for a while. The paramedics will be here in no time, and then you'll be okay."  
  
There was no noticeable response, but he thought that maybe Turnbull was reassured a little. The main thing was to keep him awake and fighting. Only how was he going to do that?  
  
"Talk to me, willya? Come  _on_ , man, talk…"  
  
"Ray…" again, it was hardly more than a sigh of breath against his throat. Still, it gave him some hope.  
  
He laughed shakily. "This is crazy, you know? I don't even know what your name is." Just thinking about it made him feel sick at heart. "So, what's your first name, huh? You gonna tell me?"  
  
The heavy body tensed slightly in his arms. Turnbull's breathing became more laboured still. "Ren…" a faint gasp, "…it's Renny…"  
  
Unconsciously, his arms tightened a little. "Hey, Renny. Nice to meet ya."  
  
Silence. He tried again. "You gotta stay awake buddy. Talk to me."  
  
There was no response, only the faint sensation of his breathing told Ray that his companion was still alive. He tightened his grip. " _Talk_  dammit! You know any poetry, huh? A song, maybe?"  
  
Nothing for a long, seemingly endless moment, and then Renny started singing something, Ray wasn't sure what, in a weak monotone. Every other word he paused to struggle for breath. Eventually, it sank in. He was singing…  _trying_  to sing 'Oh Canada'. Ray had heard it a few times, thanks to Fraser, though he'd be damned if he knew more than the occasional phrase. Nonetheless, he joined in as best he could, humming where he didn't know the words.  
  
They got through one shaky rendition and started over. It seemed to take forever, and still there was no sign of the paramedics or Vecchio. Turnbull's face was sheened with sweat though he was still far too cold. The weak voice faltered and stopped.  
  
"Come on, Renny. Don't give up on me now, buddy." He stroked the sweat-dampened hair gently. "How did that next bit go?"  
  
"…with …glowing eyes…"   
  
"Oh yeah. Wasn't there something about the true north next?"  
  
Turnbull's head moved in an almost imperceptible nod. "Ray…"   
  
The blue eyes, dulled by pain, met his and Ray flinched. The Mountie knew he was dying, even seemed quietly resigned to it. "You're gonna be okay, Renny. Just a bit longer. Help'll be here soon."  
  
There was no answer. He could almost feel the life draining out of the large body in his arms. "Don't give up buddy. Promise me you won't give up." Turnbull didn't respond. The pulse under his fingertips flickered and died for a moment, then it was back. " _Promise_ , dammit!"   
  
Nothing.  
  
He almost gave up then, but his stubborn streak came to the fore. He started singing again, under his breath. Maybe if he did a bad enough job of it, Canadian patriotism might give Turnbull the strength to object…  
  
By the time the paramedics burst into the room, he was convinced he was singing to a corpse, but the paramedics obviously thought otherwise. After a quick survey of the still figure, they were pushing Ray out of the way and lifting the Mountie onto the gurney.   
  
He tried to stand, and his knees gave way. Only a fierce grip on his upper arm stopped him falling. He hadn't even noticed Vecchio come back, but he leaned gratefully against his partner and didn't protest when an arm went around his waist. He needed all the help he could get to stay on his feet.  
  
To give them credit, the paramedics didn't waste any time. In minutes, he and Vecchio were following the gurney down the maze of hallways to the main doors of the warehouse. By the time they got there his legs were capable of holding him once again.  
  
Ray moved away from Vecchio's support with a brief nod. "Thanks."  
  
"That's okay." Vecchio shrugged. "You better go in the ambulance. I'll wait here for the forensic team. I'll join ya later."  
  
"Yeah." Part of him didn't want to go. He still couldn't believe that Turnbull would survive, and he didn't want to be there when it happened. But he couldn't let a fellow officer, a man he was supposed to have been helping, looking after, die alone in a hospital. Fraser was never going to forgive him for this. But then, he'd never be able to forgive himself.  
  
So, when the gurney was loaded into the ambulance, Ray climbed in too. Into the stink of blood and antiseptic and the sound of a dying man struggling to breathe in the oxygen from the mask strapped over his face. Even in that short time, he looked worse; although that might have been due to the mask and the IV tubes and the thick dressings taped over his belly. He took hold of the limp hand lying on the dark hospital blanket. Turnbull's eyelids fluttered weakly and lifted a fraction.  
  
"Hey, Renny. You're doing good, buddy. We're nearly there now, just hold on a bit longer, okay?" He exchanged a glance with the paramedic, who shrugged. He stroked the sweaty hair lightly. "Just hold on, you hear?"  
  
*  
  
He'd lost track of how many hours he'd spent at the hospital, waiting. A glance at his watch told him it was nearly eight thirty p.m., but time didn't seem to have much meaning any more. Ray only knew that the surgery was taking a dangerously long time for someone as weak as Turnbull had been when they'd brought him in. Vecchio had come in and stayed for a while, then left a to follow up on a lead Huey had called in. Everybody would be working their butts off to find someone who'd shot a cop, even if the cop was a Mountie.   
  
Besides, they all knew Turnbull and liked him in their own ways. It was hard not to like someone so harmless, so hopeless, who still insisted on taking himself seriously as a cop. He should have taken Turnbull's story seriously. He should have gone to meet him when he called last night. Ray swore under his breath. Fraser had only been gone two days. How the Hell had things gotten into such a mess in just two days? Fraser was going to kill him.  
  
"Detective Kowalski?"  
  
Startled out of his thoughts, he stared up blankly at the nurse. "Yeah?"  
  
"Constable Turnbull is out of surgery." She smiled at him. "He's still on the critical list, but you can see him for a few minutes."  
  
He followed her down the hallway to Intensive Care. The room was crowded with medical equipment, dwarfing the bed and the still figure in it. He waited for the nurse to leave before walking to over.  
  
Turnbull might almost be sleeping, except that his face was completely drained of colour, and nobody slept  _that_  deeply. The broad chest barely stirred with his breathing. As he had before, Ray took the lax hand and held it in silence until the nurse came to take him out again.  
  
He knew it was far from over. He'd seen wounds like Turnbull's before, had seen people die of them. It wasn't the bullet holes that did it. There'd been four, they'd told him, but most of the damage was internal. Each bullet might tear or just nick the intestines in a dozen places, and the surgeon had to find them all. Turnbull's belly would have been full of blood and faeces. And he'd been like that for God only knew how long. Some kind of infection was almost a certainty.   
  
The question was, would Turnbull survive it? He'd lost a huge amount of blood and had been close to death when Ray had found him. That wasn't going to help. Nor the length of the operation, which would have taken its toll on his strength. And there was nothing Ray could do except sit helplessly by and watch. And hope against all reason that Turnbull would survive.  
  
*  
  
"Ray?"   
  
Fraser's voice dragged him out of a sleep-deprived daze and Ray struggled out of the chair. "Thank God you're back."  
  
Without a second thought he walked over to his friend and into his arms. Fraser reacted, typically, by stiffening and patting him awkwardly on the shoulder. Ray smiled. Some things never changed…  
  
After a moment Fraser stepped back. "How is he, Ray?"  
  
They both looked at Turnbull. "Not good. They say he'll probably make it, but..."  
  
"I've called his parents. They'll be here tomorrow." Fraser rubbed his eyebrow distractedly with his thumb. "Do we know what happened?"  
  
Ray shrugged. "He hasn't woken yet. Did Vecchio tell you anything?"  
  
"I haven't seen him, Ray." Fraser's gaze shifted back to the bed. "Lt Welsh gave me all the information he had, but it wasn't a great deal."  
  
"Yeah, well we don't really know much. My guess is he was taken off the street. They probably recognised that damn uniform from the morning and took him to find out what he was up to." Ray sighed and went over to the bed. Turnbull was still deeply unconscious, his chest rising and falling with slow regularity, about the only improvement he'd shown. He touched Turnbull's arm lightly.  
  
A hand came down on his shoulder. "Don't blame yourself, Ray. Nobody could have foreseen something like this."  
  
He shook his head tiredly. "I shoulda paid more attention."  
  
"You were already heavily involved in a difficult case. Turnbull could have been completely mistaken in his assumptions…"  
  
"If it had been  _you_  I would have taken it seriously, Frase. But because it was Turnbull I didn't, and it nearly got him killed." He turned to look Fraser in the face.   
  
"Ray…" Fraser sighed. "Lt Welsh asked me to tell you he's reassigned the case you were working on to another team. You and… and Ray are going to work this case."  
  
"All right." Ray turned back to the chair and dropped into it. He rubbed his aching temples. "I'll stay here till he wakes. Then maybe he can identify those bastards and we can pull them in."  
  
*  
  
Next morning, Turnbull still hadn't woken. The only consolation was that everybody seemed to think that he was out of danger. He ought to go home. There was nothing he could do here until Turnbull woke, and he badly needed a wash and a shave. Vecchio had brought him some clean clothes and taken away his bloodstained jeans and shirt that first day, but that was all. He couldn't remember when he'd last eaten.  
  
He stood, but couldn't quite make himself walk away. When the door opened, he turned to it in relief. The senior nurse smiled at him then stood aside to usher in an elderly couple. The woman could have been anyone, but the man was unmistakably a relative of Turnbull's. It took a moment for the realisation to sink in. They could only be his parents. They looked old enough to be his grandparents.  
  
Mrs Turnbull made a sound of distress at the sight of her son, but hesitated before moving towards the bed. Her husband turned an intimidating glare on Ray.  
  
He started towards them, holding out a hand in greeting. "Ma'am, sir, Detective Ray Kowalski, Chicago P.D. I was working with your son."  
  
"Hmph." The elder Turnbull ignored his proffered hand. "What did the boy do to get himself shot? I always told him this police business would lead to no good."  
  
His hackles rose at the man's tone, but uncharacteristically he bit back his immediate response. They'd travelled a long way to see their badly wounded son; maybe it was just worry that made him seem so abrupt. "We're still trying to determine that, sir. When he wakes, your son's evidence should help."   
  
Turnbull Senior scowled "I doubt it. I could never get any sense out of him. He probably did me a favour not coming into the family business."  
  
It wasn't often he disliked someone so intensely after such a short time. Definitely time he left, before he popped the guy one. He looked over at Turnbull's mother. She was standing by the bed staring down at her son, her face creased with distress. As Ray watched, she stretched out her hand towards the still figure, then stopped. After a nervous glance at her husband, her hand dropped back to her side.  
  
"Well, I have to go now. I'll be back later. If you need anything…" he thought about offering his hand again and decided against it.  
  
"That young man at the Consulate said he'd take care of everything." Turnbull Senior sounded like he disapproved even of Fraser.  
  
"Okay." Ray headed for the door. "Like I said. I'll be back later."  
  
*  
  
The Bull Pen was in chaos. Huey and Dewey were working with Vecchio on Turnbull's case, he'd been told, but there was no sign of any of them. Frannie greeted him with demands to know how Turnbull was doing and when she'd be allowed to visit him in hospital. Then Welsh appeared in his doorway, and Ray's heart stood still.  
  
"Kowalski." He turned back into his office and Ray followed him inside and closed the door. "Any news?"  
  
"Nossir. He hasn't woken yet, but they say it shouldn't be long now. His parents arrived, so I left them with him."  
  
Welsh grunted. "All right. We need his statement to pull them in. Huey and Dewey are watching Partello. Vecchio's on the other man. We haven't identified him yet… we don't want to scare him off by asking too many questions." He looked Ray over. "Take a break. Then get back to the hospital."  
  
*  
  
A break sounded like a good idea, but when he got to his apartment Ray knew there was no chance of him sleeping. He showered, shaved and drank some coffee, then went back to the hospital.  
  
Turnbull's parents had left already. It didn't seem, at first, that there'd been any change, but as Ray got closer, he could see that Turnbull was closer to waking. He didn't look good. His eyes were shadowed and his skin was sallow where it wasn't bruised and sweaty, his lips dry. Ray took the small washcloth and dampened it then wiped Turnbull's face. The long rangy body stirred restlessly and Turnbull's face tightened in pain.  
  
"Turnbull? Can ya hear me?" Ray leaned a little closer, but there was no response. After a moment he pulled the chair close to the bed and sat, his hand resting lightly on Turnbull's arm, and began to talk.  
  
It didn't take long to cover the events of the last few days and before long Ray was rambling, too tired to care what he said. In fact, afterwards, he was never entirely sure what he  _had_  said. But it worked. He could see Turnbull gradually respond to his voice until the sandy lashes resting on his cheeks fluttered and struggled to rise.  
  
Instantly, Ray was on his feet leaning over the bed. "Hey, Turnbull…" his fingertips brushed across the damp hair before he knew what he was doing and he jerked his hand back. The Mountie might not appreciate such a gesture from him. "Come on Turnbull, wake up. There's some questions I want answering."  
  
Not much to his surprise, the Canadian responded better to the voice of authority. A soft moan and the renewed fluttering of his lashes heralded the moment Ray had been waiting for. Turnbull's eyes opened and he smiled weakly.  
  
Blue eyes. Not like his own almost grey, or Fraser's slate blue, but real sapphire blue. He'd never noticed that before. With an effort Ray wrenched his thoughts away from the colour of Turnbull's eyes and back to the important things. He reached for the cloth and used it to moisten the dry lips.  
  
"Listen, Turnbull, I don't wanna wear you out, but I gotta have your statement that it was those two guys who did this to you. Then we can arrest them. We've got them under surveillance right now, just waiting for your word. You understand?"  
  
Turnbull blinked and his head dipped in weak acknowledgment.  
  
"Okay." He pulled out the little tape recorder he'd brought from the stationhouse and started recording. "Record of interview between… uh… Constable Turnbull of the Canadian Consulate in Chicago and Detective Stanley Raymond Kowalski, Chicago PD. Time is… three thirty eight p.m. and we're in the Intensive Care Unit of Cook County Hospital.   
  
"Constable, can you identify the two men in this sketch as your attackers." He held up the sketch that Turnbull had given him only three days ago.  
  
Turnbull's lips parted but the sound he made was so low Ray couldn't hear it. He leaned forward, holding the recorder only inches from Turnbull's face. "Try again, Turnbull. You only need to say yes, if it's them."  
  
"Yes…" It was hardly more than a sigh.  
  
He stopped the tape and wound it back. Turnbull's voice was faint, but it was enough. Ray grinned. "Good on yer." He started the tape again. "For the record, Constable Turnbull indicated a sketch drawn by him of the person known by the alias of Vincente Partello and his as yet unidentified companion. Constable can you please confirm this."  
  
Turnbull managed another weak affirmative.  
  
"Constable who shot you? Was it Partello or the other man?" That was something he badly wanted to know. Because he was going to do everything he could to make sure the shooter went down for a very, very long time.  
  
"Partello." It seemed to take every ounce of strength Turnbull had left. His eyes closed and for a moment he seemed to teeter on the verge of unconsciousness. Then his eyelids fluttered again and lifted.  
  
He had everything he needed now. "Interview concludes at… three forty two p.m." He slipped the recorder back into his pocket. "You did good. We're gonna get those bastards, okay? You just take it easy."  
  
Turnbull smiled again as his eyes drifted closed. Ray patted his arm and then grinned, thinking how it was the sort of thing Fraser would do. "Your folks are here, ya know. Got in this morning."  
  
The blue eyes flew open and Turnbull's mouth worked briefly but no sound came out. He didn't look too thrilled, and after meeting them, Ray could understand why. "They're probably getting some rest, just now. You want me to hang around till they come back?"  
  
A brief shake of the head.  
  
"Okay. I'll get the nurse to look in at ya. Take it easy, and I'll be back tomorrow to visit. That okay with you?"  
  
Turnbull seemed to be gathering his strength. "Thank you, Ray." His voice was weak and croaky.  
  
"Hey, I'm glad to. Yer a hero, ya know that?" He laid his hand on the broad shoulder for a moment and then drew back as Turnbull's eyelids drooped. He backed away carefully, but Turnbull didn't stir.  
  
*  
  
He was back at the stationhouse trying to get Welsh to let him in on Partello's interrogation when the FBI arrived. Ray straightened from where he'd been leaning over Welsh's desk and eyed the two agents with misgiving.   
  
Welsh appeared unmoved. "What can I do for you... gentlemen?" The hesitation was brief, but quite noticeable. Ray grinned; Welsh was a master at this.  
  
"You're holding someone. We want him." It was the taller agent, Robinson, who spoke. His companion, who hadn't introduced himself, simply stood impassively, a step to the rear.  
  
"Like Hell!" Ray took a step towards them, his fists clenching.  
  
"Ray." Welsh shifted in his chair. "Your man shot a cop. We get first bite at the apple."  
  
Robinson's lip curled. "A Mountie."  
  
"A cop." Ray was suddenly standing nose to nose with the Fed. "A friend of mine."  
  
He was ignored. "Call him off, Lieutenant. We need to talk. Privately."  
  
"I ain't going nowhere." He glared at Robinson.  
  
"Lieutenant."  
  
Welsh steepled his fingers and contemplated them for a few seconds. "He stays."  
  
Robinson flushed angrily. "This is..."  
  
"He stays." Welsh sounded bored.  
  
Ray grinned wolfishly and backed away an inch or two.  
  
"You can have Molina, just give us Partello." Robinson had regained his air of cool superiority.  
  
"It was Partello who shot Turnbull." Welsh shook his head. "We're keeping him."  
  
"That's not acceptable." Now Robinson was starting to look rattled again. "Lieutenant, we need to talk privately or there's going to be more trouble than you can handle."  
  
"So talk." Welsh leaned back in his chair. There was a long pause. "I'm waiting Agent."  
  
"Lieutenant we can't discuss sensitive information with your man here." This time it was the other Fed speaking.  
  
"Ah..." Welsh favoured him with the kind of smile that Ray always preferred not to have directed at  _him_. "And your name is..."  
  
"That's not relevant."  
  
"I see." Welsh looked at him, then at Ray.  
  
Ray folded his arms across his chest. "I ain't leaving."  
  
"I'm sorry, gentlemen..." Welsh spread his hands in a gesture of helplessness. "He says he's not leaving."  
  
"All right!" The agent's lips tightened. "This isn't to be repeated outside this room. Partello is our man. We want him back."  
  
"He's a  _Fed_?" Ray almost choked with anger.  
  
He was ignored. "He was acting to protect his cover. This is an important assignment."  
  
"He shot a cop, dammit! He crossed the line." Ray's fingers were itching to strangle the other man. "He ain't gonna get away with it." Behind him Welsh was silent, letting him set the pace for this confrontation, but sooner or later he'd have to step in. Ray only hoped it was  _after_  he got to break the Fed's nose.  
  
"Lieutenant Welsh…" once again the Fed ignored Ray and spoke past him, "… _we_  have the authority here. We're taking our man whether you like it or not."  
  
Ray turned to stare at Welsh. "Lou…"  
  
"I'm sorry, Ray. As he says, my hands are tied." Welsh met his eyes calmly. Suddenly Ray grinned.  
  
"Well, mine aren't." He turned back to the two agents. "There's not a man or woman in this building who'll let you take that bastard out of here once they know what's going on."  _Especially_  Frannie… "And I'm gonna blow your man's cover wide open." He started for the door.  
  
"Lieutenant!"   
  
"Detective Kowalski?" Welsh's voice stopped him by the door.   
  
Deliberately, Ray put his hand on the doorknob before looking back over his shoulder. "Yessir?"  
  
Welsh sighed. "I suppose if I were to give you a direct order in this matter you would have no hesitation in disobeying it?"  
  
"That's right sir." Ray grinned happily. He knew what would come next.  
  
"Then I'm going to have to ask for your badge. You're suspended for the rest of the day." Welsh held out his hand.  
  
Ray unhooked his badge from his belt and flipped it across the room to land on Welsh's desk. He stared at the two agents challengingly.  
  
They exchanged a frustrated glance. "Lieutenant, surely we can come to an arrangement. Partello has been undercover for three years. He has a lot of information we need. You're risking an operation that's cost hundreds of thousands of dollars."  
  
Welsh considered that for a moment. "All right. Here's the deal. Your man confesses to attempted murder. We don't look too closely at whatever else he might have done. We don't try to uncover any background on him. After he's pleaded guilty, and been sentenced, he's out of our hands." Ignoring protests from both sides, he shrugged. "It's the best I can offer. Unless the Agency wants to blow the operation. Or do  _you_ , Ray, really want to lose your job?" He waited, but nobody spoke. "Then it's agreed. You better go tell your man what to do."  
  
*  
  
Vecchio had completely disappeared. Ray decided he was too damn tired to care, spent a half hour tidying his desk then left. He ought to eat, he supposed, but he just wasn't in the mood. Now that Turnbull was awake and out of danger and the men responsible were arrested, the stress of the last few days was catching up on him in a big way.  
  
He wasn't prepared to find Fraser and Dief waiting for him at the door of his apartment.   
  
"Hi. Come on in." The welcome was somewhat lacking in enthusiasm, but Fraser either didn't notice, or ignored it. Dief butted his hand in greeting and he patted the furry head absently. "Want some tea?" He yawned uncontrollably. "Sorry."  
  
Fraser smiled faintly. "Why don't you sit down and let me get it ready. I assume you want coffee?"  
  
"I'm not so tired I'll drink that stuff." Ray grinned and flopped down onto his couch. Dief laid his head on one knee and looked up at him soulfully. "There's not a donut in the whole apartment. I swear."  
  
The wolf huffed and lay down on the floor, his nose turned conspicuously away.  
  
He was almost asleep when Fraser brought the coffee and even the scent of it, or the first scalding mouthful couldn't do much to ease his weariness, or the tension which, he suddenly realised, was making knots in the back of his neck. He set the mug down with a groan.  
  
"Ray, you're exhausted. Why don't you go to bed?" Fraser was watching him with concern in his eyes.  
  
He shrugged and then regretted it when taut muscles twanged tighter still. A large hand laid itself on his shoulder and slid across the back of his neck. He looked at Fraser in surprise. They'd pretty much avoided physical contact since coming back from Canada.   
  
Fraser smiled lopsidedly. "You look like you could do with a back rub."  
  
He wasn't really hearing this… he was hallucinating, or dreaming, or something… "You know what that'll lead to."  
  
The only reply was a level gaze and a slight lifting of the eyebrows. Ray stood, stretched, and ambled off to the bedroom, not looking to see if Fraser was going to follow. He was lying naked and face down on the bed by the time Fraser joined him. He didn't turn his head as Fraser's weight settled on the edge of the bed, just lay there listening to the rustling of clothing as Fraser removed his shirt.  
  
It could only have been his shirt, because a moment later a warm, oil slick pair of hands began to work at the sore muscles in his shoulders. Ray groaned.   
  
Fraser was good at this. Good enough that he could have earned a living doing it. Ray let his body relax into the mattress as first his shoulders and then his back were kneaded and rubbed into a semblance of normality. The slow, smooth movements rocked his body gently, sending him drifting and inevitably, as he moved against the sheets, arousing him. Eventually the stroking hands stilled on his hips.  
  
"Would you like to roll over, Ray?"  
  
"No, Frase, I would not. I don't ever wanna move again." Even to his own ears he sounded half asleep.  
  
There was a momentary pause. "Would you like me to go?"  
  
"Uh uhn. Don' even think about it."  
  
A light touch on his shoulder. "I'll just be a tick."  
  
He heard Fraser out in the lounge explaining to Dief. Then he went into the bathroom. Ray closed his eyes, smiling.  
  
"Ray? Can you just…" Gentle hands helped him to roll onto his side, then lowered him onto his front again. There was a soft towel beneath his hips now. Fraser always thought of everything.  
  
More rustling and then Fraser's warm weight covered him like a blanket, smooth and comforting. Ray parted his legs slightly, but all Fraser did was slide against him, his cock rubbing along the cleft of his ass. Once again his body was rocked into the mattress, his cock pushing against the enveloping thickness of the towel. The tip of his cock began to tingle pleasantly with the gentle stimulation.  
  
"Ray?" Fraser's breath washed his shoulder in extra warmth, and a soft brush of lips against his throat made him sigh with pleasure. "Is this all right?"  
  
It was a lot more than all right. "Oh yeaaahhh…."  
  
The slow thrusts continued as the tingling spread down his cock and into his balls. Ray squirmed, feeling the first impatience of hunger. Immediately Fraser quickened the rhythm a little. He was gasping, without the energy to yell as he normally did by this stage. His body began to thrust instinctively into the mattress beneath him and he heard Fraser's breathing, harsh in his ear.  
  
"Oh, God…" he came with a sob and collapsed into a boneless sprawl.  
  
A moment later more heat was added to the friction of Fraser's cock against his butt. Fraser sighed and kissed the back of his neck. "Are you all right, Ray?"  
  
He couldn't speak for a moment. "Fraser, I am so all right I can hardly believe it."  
  
The weight was lifted off him with a quiet chuckle. The towel was eased out from under him and used to wipe his back. Then the covers were thrown over him, settling around him like a lover's embrace. Fraser went into the bathroom again.  
  
Ray was almost asleep when he felt Fraser's weight settle beside him. "I'll let you sleep now, Ray."  
  
"No!" Instinctively, he reached for Fraser and caught his arm. "Why don't you stay? I'd like the company."  
  
Maybe he shouldn't have asked, but there was only the briefest hesitation. "All right."  
  
He rolled onto his side with an effort and felt Fraser slide under the covers. After a moment Fraser's arms wrapped around him, drawing him into a comforting hold. He relaxed against the warm body at his back and was asleep almost immediately.  
  
In the morning he was alone. That was okay. Last night had been good, friendly comfort sex, nothing more. But that was a great deal, after all…  
  
*  
  
Vecchio was back, withdrawn as ever and giving no explanation for his disappearing act of the previous day. Ray was feeling far too relaxed to care anyway. At least until Welsh called them into his office.   
  
He shifted uneasily while Welsh inspected them both. Finally the lieutenant leaned back in his chair. "Congratulations gentlemen. It seems like you can be quite a team when you choose to be."  
  
Vecchio shrugged. "It was luck. I recognised a name, knew where to look."  
  
"Yeah. And Turnbull had already done half the work anyway, before they grabbed him." There was no way Ray wanted to take any credit for this case. He still felt sick every time he thought of the Mountie slowly bleeding to death in that warehouse.  
  
"Nevertheless, I'm pleased with your work." Welsh fiddled with a pencil. "However, Brown and Pereira will keep your double homicide. Kowalski, I want you to get Turnbull's statement when he's up to it. That's all."  
  
They'd both muttered their thankyous and left the office before Ray had registered that there was something in the conversation that he was missing. He kept quiet, and started reading through some of his other cases; ones that had been on the back burner in the last few days.  
  
Then it hit him. He found himself staring at Vecchio, until the other man sensed it and looked up. "You knew, didn't you? That Partello was a Fed."  
  
"Don't be stupid." Vecchio scowled. "If I knew he was a Fed, I'd be in serious trouble right now, wouldn't I? Arresting an undercover agent isn't exactly the way to make yourself popular."  
  
Ray ignored him. " _That's_  why you took off yesterday. That's why you never said anything about the warehouse."  
  
"Shut  _up_!" Ray looked into furious green eyes. "I'm just a cop, right? And cops don't know that kinda stuff. And if the Feds  _knew_  that a cop knew that kinda stuff, that cop's life wouldn't be worth shit. It wouldn't take them long to find out how a cop got to know that stuff, and then all it'd take is one phone call to the right person, and every Family in the North West would be looking for that cop."  
  
Welsh knew too. That's why they'd been kept off the homicide. It was too high profile. Too much chance of someone recognising Vecchio, especially now that the Feds were going to be around for a while. It suddenly occurred to Ray how much of a risk Vecchio had taken to save Turnbull's life.  
  
He summoned up a halfway convincing smile. "Hey, don't mind me. Everybody knows I got a wild imagination."  
  
"Yeah, well keep it to yourself." Vecchio turned away, hunching his shoulder, but Ray thought he caught the faint flicker of a smile.  
  
*  
  
It was another two days before Turnbull was strong enough, or awake enough, to make his statement. Ray visited him each day, sometimes twice, but most of the time the Mountie was sleeping. The rest of it, he was barely coherent as he struggled to fight off the infection that had set in.  
  
The first person he saw, coming out of Turnbull's room, was Fraser and his heart began to race. "What's happened? Is he okay?"  
  
Fraser smiled. "Turnbull's improving, actually. He's going to be all right, Ray. Don't worry so much."  
  
Ray shrugged. It was easy for Fraser to say that. He didn't have to feel responsible for Turnbull being in hospital in the first place. "Do you think he's strong enough to make a statement?"  
  
"If you take it slowly." Fraser frowned. "His parents are with him now. Would you like to have a coffee?"  
  
Much as he would have preferred to avoid Mr Turnbull, in particular, Ray shook his head. "I better do it now." And then, as Fraser began to walk away, "Frase? Thanks for the other night. It really helped."  
  
Fraser blushed a little. "You're most welcome, Ray. That's what friends are for, isn't it?" He raised his eyebrows innocently as Ray began to laugh.  
  
"Sure, Fraser.  _All_  my friends would do that for me. See ya later." He opened the door to Turnbull's room and was hit by a wave of heat and sickroom smells.   
  
Turnbull  _was_  looking better, but he was still flushed and heavy lidded from his bout of fever. His mother was sitting beside the bed, not touching him or speaking, and his father was pacing by the window. He wondered how Turnbull was ever going to recover in that kind of atmosphere.  
  
But Turnbull's eyes had turned towards him and a weak but genuine smile crossed his face. "Hello, Ray."  
  
"Hey there. How's it going?" Ray went to stand by the bed, opposite Mrs Turnbull. He clasped Turnbull's hand briefly in greeting, feeling awkward. "D'ya think you can make your statement now? We've got the guys who did it, but the sooner we get your statement the better."  
  
"Of course, Ray." There was a hesitation in Turnbull's voice and his eyes turned towards his father for a moment.  
  
Ray took the hint. "Mr and Mrs Turnbull? This could take a while. Why don't you take a break." He faked a smile. "It's a nice day outside."  
  
They left, eventually, Mrs Turnbull fussing ineffectually and Mr Turnbull with an irritated scowl on his face. Turnbull seemed to brighten immediately.  
  
Ray pulled over a chair and sat, hunting in his jacket pocket for his notebook and pen. "How're ya feeling Turnbull? Yer looking better."  
  
"I'm feeling better, thank you, Ray." Turnbull smiled hesitantly. His voice was still very weak and he was lying unnaturally still, as if the slightest movement would cause him pain.  
  
Better to get this over with as quickly as possible, then Turnbull could get some rest. "Okay, I've got it done up to the point where you were at the stationhouse." He read it out, slowly, making sure Turnbull was following it. "That okay?"  
  
Turnbull nodded. "Yes."  
  
"Okay, what happened on the way home that night?"   
  
Turnbull's brows drew together in a slight frown. "After I called you, I was going to leave as you said…" he looked appealingly at Ray. "Really, I was…" he swallowed. "I hadn't gone very far… the other man… not Partello… he came up behind me. He had a gun…" Turnbull broke off, swallowing with obvious difficulty.  
  
"You want some water?" At Turnbull's nod he held out the glass of water so Turnbull could sip through a straw. The Mountie was already showing signs of weakening. "Turnbull, if yer not ready for this I can come back tomorrow."  
  
"No." Turnbull shook his head determinedly. "Ray, is there… have I done something wrong?"  
  
Ray stared at him in surprise. "No. Why'd you think that?"  
  
"I just…" Turnbull's face was turned away from him, making it hard to hear his voice. "You're calling me Turnbull. Before… you…" the weak voice faded into inaudibility.  
  
Somewhere inside him Ray felt a stab of pleasure. "You want me to call ya Renny? Is that it?" There was no response, but Turnbull seemed to be waiting. "Hey, I'll be happy to call you by your name. I just wasn't sure... you know… like when things are bad, sometimes you're, like, friends, and then when it's over, ya go back to bein' strangers again? So I just didn't know…"  
  
Turnbull was looking at him again. "I'd like that, Ray."  
  
"Okay." He smiled at the big Mountie, feeling ridiculously pleased. "Hiya, Renny."  
  
"Hello, Ray." Renny's smile was openly delighted. "I suppose we'd better continue."  
  
"Oh… yeah. Just take it easy, okay?" He held his pen at the ready again.  
  
"All right. He… the other man…"  
  
"His name's Molina."  
  
Renny nodded. "Molina. He made me get in the car… the Buick… but then they put a cloth over my head. I couldn't see where they took me… I'm sorry, Ray…"  
  
"It's okay." Ray put his hand on the muscular arm. "Renny, yer doin' fine. Anyway, I'm a slow writer."  
  
That raised a faint smile. "They drove for several minutes, then took me into a building. It felt… empty… big…" he sighed. "It's not much… I was in an office… at least that's what it looked like. I was tied to a chair and they left me there for a while."  
  
In spite of the heat of the room, Ray shivered. He knew what it felt like to wait, tied up and helpless, wondering what was going to happen. He patted Renny's arm again. The heavy lids drooped and Renny swallowed. "More water?"  
  
The sandy head moved slowly from side to side. "I'm sorry, Ray…"  
  
"Don't. It's okay." He laid his hand on Renny's arm and waited.  
  
"They came back…" the soft voice had sunk to a whisper. "They wanted to know who I was working with… what I knew…" the blue eyes opened, staring at him beseechingly. "I didn't tell them, Ray… they wouldn't have hesitated to kill you… and I needed time… for you to come…" he smiled tremulously. "I knew you'd come, in the morning…"  
  
"They beat you." God, he felt sick. He already knew what had happened, but hearing it was painful.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Both of them? Or just Molina."  
  
"Both… I don't know how long. A long time… the sky was starting to lighten outside…"   
  
His breathing was becoming strained, and Ray tightened his grip on the pen, steeling himself for what would come next.  
  
"Par… Partello said… kill him, he's not… not worth it… and Molina… he said… said he'd never killed a cop and he wasn't going to start now." The words came out in a desperate rush and Renny broke off with a gasp. His breathing was getting worse by the second and his face was flushed and damp with sweat.   
  
Ray just wanted to end it. "So Partello shot you."   
  
"Yes."  
  
"Okay, that's enough for now." Ray took hold of his wrist. He could feel the weak pulse fluttering under his fingers, far too fast. "You want me to call the nurse?"  
  
"No." Tears trickled out from under his already wet lashes.  
  
Damn. Maybe he should just call the nurse anyway. Instead he reached for the washcloth on the nightstand and dampened it with cool water from the washbasin. He stared to wipe Renny's face with it. "That better, Renny?"  
  
Renny smiled weakly. "Thank you Ray… I'm sorry…"  
  
"Don't be. You've done great." He dampened the cloth again and continued, wiping down Renny's throat and over his chest, lightly. "We can do the rest another time. When you're stronger. I've got everything I really need."  
  
"That's nice… cool…" it sounded like he was half asleep.  
  
Ray smiled. "Okay, just relax and enjoy it. Take it easy."   
  
It wasn't long before Renny drifted into sleep. Ray waited a little longer, watching the long angular face for signs of distress, but he seemed all right, considering what he'd been through. On the way out he stopped off at the nurse's station.  
  
"Keep an eye on him, willya?" He leaned against the counter and eyed the young woman invitingly, not above using charm to get what he wanted. Especially in this case. "He's just had a rough session. Making a statement." He waved the notebook in explanation.  
  
She returned his smile willingly. "Sure. He's a nice guy. So polite. Not like his father."  
  
"Yeah, makes you wonder where he got it from, don't it?" Ray grinned, but he wished he could stop Turnbull Senior from getting anywhere near his son.  
  
"You know…" she leaned closer, and Ray did the same. "…I think he's  _worse_  when his father's there. The mother's okay, but she's scared of him, so she won't do anything she thinks he won't like. It's a pity."  
  
"Yeah. Maybe I should shoot the old bastard." He grinned at her half hearted attempt to look shocked. "I'll be back later. Say around eight. You gonna be on duty?"  
  
He already knew she wouldn't be, but if flirting with her got Renny some special attention it would be a small price to pay. Besides, she was pretty.   
  
*  
  
"Wake up, Kowalski. We're here."  
  
Vecchio's voice jerked him out of an exhausted daze. "I'm awake. I just had my eyes closed is all."  
  
"Sure. You look like Hell." Vecchio stared at him for a moment. "It's not all your fault, ya know."  
  
He didn't need to hear that. His mirror told him every morning what he looked like, and it  _was_  all his fault. Being with Renny every day in the hospital, running interference between him and his father was taking a toll on him he hadn't expected. Renny's almost child-like friendliness made him feel guilty as Hell, but telling the big Canadian the truth was out of the question, at least until he was stronger. Ray pushed aside the thought that even then he wouldn't want to confess and risk losing their new friendship.  
  
A sigh from the other side of the car made him realise he hadn't responded to Vecchio's comment. "Look, I'm okay. I'm handling things."  
  
"No you're not." Brooding green eyes met his squarely. "You weren't responsible for everything that went wrong. I coulda prevented it. I knew something was going on, I just didn't want to get involved."  
  
Ray tried to read Vecchio's face and couldn't. "Because of me."  
  
"Because of you. Because of Turnbull. Because I just didn't want to know." Vecchio shrugged apathetically. "Because I don't wanna be your partner, or to like you, or to respect you as a cop. Because of a whole lot of shit."  
  
Because of Fraser. But neither of them was ready to open  _that_  can of worms. "Hell, you were the one who saved Renny's life."  
  
"Renny?" A smile tugged at the corner of Vecchio's mouth. It faded fast. "If I'd known Partello was involved, I would have told you both to stay the Hell away from him. So don't blame yourself for everything."  
  
It helped, a bit, to know that Vecchio felt at least partly responsible. Ray sighed "I guess I could have made things easier for both of us. Truth is, I didn't want to be partners any more than you did."  
  
"What a big surprise." Vecchio's voice was sarcastic, but not completely unfriendly. "So, anyway, I figure we can work together. That's all. We do the job, and we do it properly. Outside of work, I don't give a shit. That okay with you?"  
  
He grinned. It wasn't the most enthusiastic offer he'd ever had, but he was going to take it all the same. "Works for me."   
  
*  
  
Ray looked at his watch. Four thirty. He could sneak out now and Welsh would turn a blind eye as long as he was up to date on his paperwork. That wasn't difficult considering his caseload had mysteriously halved itself almost overnight after Renny's shooting. He could stop off at the gift shop in the hospital's lobby and buy some flowers or something. Maybe a magazine, though God only knew what Renny might want to read.  
  
Renny had been moved to a regular room a couple of days ago, and now his parents could harass him in greater privacy. Some, at least, of the Mountie's behaviour now made a lot more sense than it had before. Growing up with parents like his would have made anybody act strangely.  
  
They weren't there when he poked his head around the door, and Ray repressed a sigh of relief. "Hey, Renny, how's it going?"  
  
"Oh. Hello, Ray." The face that turned towards him was paler and more strained looking than it ought to be. "Everything's fine, thank you."  
  
He hadn't even managed to raise a smile. Ray went over and hitched his butt carefully onto the edge of the bed. "You don't look too good. What's wrong?"  
  
"Nothing, really." Renny managed to get an unconvincing smile onto his face. "Well, perhaps I'm a little tired."  
  
"Sure." He inspected the unhappy face and shadowed eyes. "You in pain?"  
  
A shake of the sandy head was his only answer.   
  
"So I guess it's your parents, then." Startled blue eyes lifted to his and Ray grinned. "Hey, you're not the first guy in the world to have trouble with his folks."  
  
"My father wants me to resign from the RCMP. He says I'll never amount to anything and I'll only get myself killed." The long face filled with misery. "Perhaps he's right. I certainly made a mess of this case."  
  
"No you didn't!" Renny blinked at his vehemence, but the words had struck a raw nerve. "It was  _your_  sketch that helped us catch those bastards. Otherwise we'd still be looking for them."  
  
"Well…"  
  
Ray sighed. "Let me take a wild guess. He wants you to go home and take over the family business."  
  
"No. My cousin's in charge of the business. Besides, Dad said I'd bankrupt it within a month if I did that. He wants me to… to…" it looked like Renny was struggling with tears.  
  
It hurt to see a man who'd faced death as bravely as Renny had, reduced to tears by his father's callousness. Ray took hold of his hand and waited until the silent struggle was over. "Listen, my old man, he never wanted me to be a cop. We didn't see each other for years because of it. But in the end he admitted he was wrong. Just 'cause he's your dad, doesn't mean he's right."  
  
The large hand turned under his and gripped his fingers firmly. "Do you think so? Do you thing Dad would ever…" his voice faded into uncertainty.  
  
"From what I've seen of him?" Ray considered it for a moment. "No. I don't think he'd ever admit he was wrong. But he is."  
  
That raised a reluctant smile from the younger man. "Thank you, Ray."  
  
He shrugged. "So what is this business, anyway? Are you the heir to a chain of hotels or something? A ranch? Coal mine?"  
  
"No." Renny appeared to be struggling with himself. "It's, ah… my grandfather, my mother's father that is, founded a chain of stores. Well, four stores, really."  
  
"Okay. What do they sell? Anything I'd buy?" He was starting to feel curious about it. Renny was definitely being cagey.  
  
Renny shook his head. A faint pink stain was rapidly spreading across his cheeks.  
  
"What? Come on buddy, you can tell me."  
  
Maybe it was the 'buddy' that did it. He hadn't called Renny that since the day he'd found him in the warehouse. Renny blushed a little more. "They sell ladies… ah… undergarments, Ray."   
  
Ray perked up. "Yeah? Like Victoria's Secret? That sexy stuff?"  
  
"Oh, no!" The long face was scarlet now. "Nothing like that, Ray. It's more… more suitable for  _older_  ladies. My father wanted me to work in one of his stores when I left high school, but I wanted to go to college. So I could join the RCMP. I didn't tell him that, of course."  
  
It occurred to Ray that it must have taken a Hell of a lot of courage and determination for an eighteen year old to stand up to Turnbull Senior. But mostly, he was trying to imagine Renny at age eighteen trying to sell 'undergarments' to women old enough to be his mother. He couldn't even say the word without blushing. Ray choked.  
  
Renny looked at him reproachfully. "It's not funny, Ray. Dad was very angry when I told him."  
  
"No. I know… it wasn't…" another choked laugh escaped him. "I was just trying to imagine you… …selling 'undergarments'…"   
  
"Oh! Yes, I see, Ray…" Renny giggled weakly. "I don't think I would have been very good at it."  
  
"Yeah. So much for your dad knowing best, huh?" He grinned at Renny, setting him off again.  
  
Renny was still giggling helplessly when the door opened and Turnbull Senior's sour face appeared. How two men with almost identical faces, allowing for the difference in their ages, could look so different was more than Ray could figure. If possible the older man's face became even more disapproving.  
  
"I thought you might have given my suggestion some serious consideration. But I see I was wasting my time. You've always been a disappointment to me, Renfield. I blame your mother. She was too soft with you."  
  
The laughter died out of Renny's face to be replaced by distress. "Dad, I…" he straightened in the bed and took a deep breath. "I'm a Mountie. It's all I ever wanted to be. I'm not going to resign." He wilted a little under his father's glare and Ray felt the grip on his hand tighten.  
  
He'd forgotten that he was still holding Renny's hand. Now he realised that Renny's father was avoiding looking anywhere near their hands. It wasn't the time to abandon the younger man, or he would have moved away. Instead, he met Renny's blue eyes squarely with his own and smiled encouragingly.  
  
"I see." There was a grim silence. "It seems you've wasted my time yet again." The door closed with a snap.  
  
Sheer fury sent the adrenalin surging through Ray's body. "Renny, I swear, I'm gonna pop him one. I don't care if he  _is_  your old man."  
  
"Ray, please… you mustn't…" Renny sounded near to tears again.  
  
"Okay, okay, I won't." He looked down at their joined hands. "I guess this didn't help any. I'm sorry."  
  
"Oh, don't worry about that." Incredibly, Renny smiled. "I told them I was gay years ago. After my first year at college."  
  
Ray felt like his jaw might hit his knees. It wasn't as though he hadn't had his suspicions, but he certainly hadn't expected Renny to be so blasé about it. After a moment he managed to find his voice again. "So how did they take it?"   
  
"Well, they said it was just a phase I was going through. We've never spoken about it since."   
  
Ray looked at him quizzically. "So maybe he thought you were over it."  
  
"But… but I  _told_  them…"  
  
"And maybe they didn't  _believe_  you." He grinned at Renny's dismay. "Maybe they thought you were just trying to piss them off. Maybe they thought it  _was_  a phase." He gave the hand he was holding a friendly squeeze. "Don't worry about it. You told them. It's not your fault if they didn't believe you."  
  
The door opened again, but this time it was Mrs Turnbull. She smiled nervously at Ray as he stood politely, casually releasing his grasp of Renny's hand. He didn't think she'd noticed. "Hello Mrs Turnbull. Nice day."  
  
Not exactly a great conversation starter, but she gave him a small, distracted smile before turning to her son. "Oh, Renfield, I'm afraid you've upset your father again." Her voice was reproachful.  
  
Predictably, Renny looked upset. "I'm sorry, Mum. I didn't mean to, but…"  
  
"You  _know_  he's only got your best interests at heart. This Mountie business…" her hands fluttered ineffectually, and Ray found himself wishing she would for once take Renny's side against her sour tempered husband. "He says we're going back home."  
  
If it hadn't been for Renny's obvious distress, Ray would have cheered the news, but once again he seemed to be on the verge of tears. Even though the old bastard had been making his life miserable over the last few weeks.   
  
"Well, I guess you've got a lot of… uh, stuff… to do back home, Mrs Turnbull. And Renny's a lot better now, so…" he took her arm and turned her towards the door. "I'll take good care of him for ya."  
  
She blushed vividly and avoided looking at him. "Oh… yes… I'm sure you will, Detective…"  
  
Uh oh… he didn't dare look over his shoulder towards Renny. "You'll have a bit of packing to do too. D'ya need a ride out to O'Hare? What time's the plane leaving?"  
  
"Oh, not till morning… six a.m., I think…" she looked up at him doubtfully. "I think Mr Turnbull said we'd take a cab."  
  
Not even to get rid of the pair of them would he offer to take them to the airport at that hour. "That's great. Have a safe trip." He closed the door behind her and leaned against it weakly. There was something about dealing with her that set his teeth on edge.   
  
Renny was staring at him wide eyed. "She… she thinks… oh dear…" his face was a picture of comical dismay.  
  
"Yeah." He was shaking with repressed laughter. "Maybe now they'll believe that it's not a phase."  
  
*  
  
"I've got some good news, Ray." Renny smiled delightedly as Ray dropped a couple of magazines on the nightstand.  
  
"Yeah? What is it?" As usual there were no chairs in the room, so he sat on the edge of the bed.  
  
Renny drew himself up proudly. "I can go home next week."  
  
Ray studied him carefully. Since his parents had left, Renny's somewhat erratic recovery had steadied into a slow but steady improvement. He'd graduated from the bed to a wheelchair and, only last week, to slow and shaky walking, with a bit of assistance and lots of rest breaks.  
  
"Are ya sure about that, buddy? That apartment of yours… it ain't the greatest for a con… conva… for someone getting over being shot. How are ya gonna manage with no lift?"   
  
A blush turned Renny's cheeks almost scarlet. "Well, I was hoping… I mean…" he looked away suddenly. "Perhaps I shouldn't…"  
  
"What? Ya know I'll help ya any way I can, but I can't be there all the time." Ray was relieved to see the hectic flush die down a little.  
  
"Oh no… of  _course_  I wouldn't expect…" Renny seemed shocked. "I'd just need a bit of help with things like… like groceries. The local store doesn't deliver, you see. And there's the laundry, of course…" his face seemed to lengthen. "Oh dear… perhaps it  _is_  a bit of an imposition. Don't worry about it, Ray. I'm sure I can manage."  
  
"Renny, it's okay. I can do that kind of stuff, no problem." Ray smiled, but his heart wasn't in it.  
  
It was strange to realise how important the friendship that had sprung up between them was to him. But it was a fragile thing, really, built on Renny's need of him and his own feelings of guilt. Somehow it had developed into a genuine liking, on his part at least. Renny himself was as friendly as a puppy and Ray was never entirely sure how much it meant to the Mountie to be his friend. Maybe it was just the situation that had thrown them together… he wasn't at all sure that their relationship, whatever it was, would survive in the world outside these hospital walls. And it was surprisingly painful to consider the possibility that they would gradually drift apart.  
  
"Is something wrong, Ray?" Renny's voice broke into his thoughts, scattering them.  
  
"Nah." He shrugged with an attempt at casualness and smiled. "It's great news. Bet you're glad to be getting out of here."   
  
"Well, yes…" Renny's happiness was definitely dimmed. As usual, he seemed incapable of hiding his emotions. He was looking at Ray now with obvious uncertainty. "Ray? When I'm… I'm not in hospital any more… it won't  _change_ anything will it? I mean… will we still be friends?" The scarlet tide flooded his cheeks again. " _Are_  we friends, Ray?"  
  
"Yeah, of course we are." A weight seemed to lift off his shoulders. "It'll be great, buddy. We can do… things. You know… hang out and stuff." He sought desperately for something they could do together. "Like go to movies. You'd like that wouldn't ya?"  
  
"Oh yes, Ray. That would be wonderful." Renny's voice was too eager, and they both suddenly found something else to capture their attention. An awkward silence ensued.  
  
Ray shifted uncomfortably. "Well, you let me know when you're being discharged and I'll drive ya home. Make sure yer okay. That kind of thing."   
  
"I'll do that, Ray. Thank you." Renny's voice was carefully neutral, matching Ray's tone.  
  
*  
  
Ray banged on Renny's apartment door for the third time. "Come  _on_ , Renny! Open up! Do I have to break that damn door down?"  
  
He pressed his ear to the door and heard not the slightest sound from inside. That meant either Renny wasn't in there, or that he was in no condition to make a sound. Either way, it was a bad situation. The hospital had released him over an hour ago and instead of waiting for Ray to pick him up, the damn fool had decided to get home on his own.   
  
Best to check out the apartment first, he decided. Which meant finding the concierge and getting a key. He headed for the stairway, muttering under his breath. The building had no lift and Renny lived on the fourth floor. There was no way he'd be able to manage on his own  
  
Halfway down, Ray found him. The Canadian was leaning heavily against the handrail, his face ashen, breathing heavily. In a moment Ray was at his side supporting him.  
  
"Thanks, Ray." Renny flashed a weak smile at him.  
  
Ray pulled a long arm across his shoulders. "Never mind 'thanks'. Are you okay? How did you get here? A cab shouldn't have taken you this long."  
  
"Cabs won't come to this neighbourhood, Ray. I took the El."  
  
"You  _what_?" The nearest station was at least four blocks away. And on a completely different line… Renny would have had to go into the Loop and change from the Blue Line to the Green Line… and before that, would have had to walk a couple of blocks from the hospital to the nearest station at that end. "Are you out of your  _mind_?"  
  
Renny had caught his breath, so they made their way slowly up the stairs, pausing frequently. Ray managed to convey his feelings on the issue quite well, in spite of being rather breathless himself. Even though he'd lost weight in hospital, Renny must be heavier by at least twenty pounds.  
  
"Key." They'd finally made it to the apartment and Ray had run out of breath and the energy to complain any further.  
  
Renny handed it over. "But Ray, I didn't know how long you'd be delayed, and besides, you've already done more than enough…"  
  
"I  _told_  you I'd be there." He got the door open and half dragged his companion inside. "You live like this?"  
  
The apartment was scrupulously clean, apart from the inevitable dust, but it was tiny and almost completely bare. At least that meant it wasn't far to the bed. He led Renny over to the narrow cot and lowered him onto it.  
  
"You better get some rest, okay?" He knelt to remove Renny's shoes and socks, then tipped him over, and lifted his legs up onto the bed. He ignored Renny's weak protests as he stripped off the other man's jeans and sweater and pulled the covers over him. "You need anything, buddy?"  
  
"I'm fine, Ray." Renny's voice was already showing signs of drowsiness. "Thank you, Ray."  
  
He dropped onto the edge of the bed. "You just take it easy, okay? You need anything, you call me. I don't want you going up and down those stairs all the time." He looked around the apartment. "Where's the phone?"  
  
"I don't have one, Ray. There's a phone in the lobby." Renny smiled sleepily and blinked.  
  
"Shit." Ray pulled out his cell phone. "Use this. Call me at the precinct and if I'm out leave a message. I'll tell them to give it priority."  
  
He put the cell phone on a small box that obviously served as a bedside table. Then he got a glass of water, in case it was needed. By the time he got back Renny was asleep. He stood looking down at the other man for a while, feeling angry and more than a little helpless. It was obvious that Renny was going to do whatever he thought he should, regardless of whether he had the actual strength to do it. He was going to have to keep a close eye on him.  
  
*  
  
"So what's for dinner tonight?" Ray dropped the laundry basket on the floor beside the bed and wandered over to the corner of the room that served as a kitchen.  
  
Renny didn't turn from the small pot he was hovering over. "Pasta al Forno, Ray. I hope you like it."  
  
"Sure I will." It was bound to be better than anything he was ever likely to cook on the few occasions he didn't buy takeout. He peered over Renny's shoulder. "Can I taste it?"   
  
He knew what the answer would be. Renny would never allow it. A huge sigh indicated that Renny had finally realised Ray was just yanking his chain. "Ray, please… couldn't you just set the table? It won't be much longer."  
  
"Okay, okay…" Ray grinned and did as he was told. This was getting so domestic it was scary. Even when he and Stella were together it hadn't been quite so cosy as this.   
  
It had started simply enough. Since there was no telling what Renny might take it into his head to do next, Ray had begun spending almost every spare moment in the tiny apartment. Renny started cooking meals for him, and then an ancient pack of cards made its appearance. Finally Ray simply brought his television over and sat through numerous wildlife documentaries, baseball matches and Canadian movies. It should have bored him senseless but it didn't. He felt more comfortable with Renny than he ever had with anybody else, even Fraser.  
  
"So what's on the tube tonight?" Ray slid into his seat as Renny carried a steaming plateful of pasta over.  
  
Renny beamed at him. "Well, there's a movie I thought you'd like, Ray."  
  
That usually meant something weirdly Canadian, but Ray simply shovelled a fork load of pasta into his mouth without commenting.  
  
"It's Iron Eagle… number four, I think." Renny looked at him expectantly. "It starts at eight thirty."  
  
"Yeah? That'll be great." At least it was better than a wildlife documentary. He gestured at his plate. "This is good."  
  
"Thank you, Ray." Renny flushed and looked pleased as he always did when Ray complimented his cooking.  
  
After they'd done the dishes, it was nearly time for the movie. They settled on the couch and Ray bemoaned the lack of popcorn, even though he was so full he couldn't possibly have eaten it. At first Ray hardly paid attention to the screen, but then…   
  
"Hey! That's you!" He straightened abruptly from his usual slouch.  
  
Renny was staring at the screen with his jaw slack. "Oh dear… he does look rather a lot like me."  
  
They watched as Renny's double, obviously one of the bad guys, grabbed another bad guy by the throat and started threatening him. Ray whooped. "Way to go, buddy!"  
  
"Ray, that certainly isn't me." Renny flinched as his alter ego opened fire on the heroine. "He does seem rather,,, well, violent."  
  
"Who cares? This is great." Ray settled down for some fun.   
  
It was just a pity that the Renny look alike wasn't in the movie nearly enough. Every time he took a pot shot at the good guys, Ray cheered him on. But, at the end, the inevitable happened. Ray stared at the fireball that was all that that remained of Renny's double and his fighter plane and felt suddenly depressed.   
  
"Ray, what's wrong?" Renny was watching him, his face serious.  
  
He tried to shrug off his uneasiness, but couldn't entirely manage it. "Nothing's wrong. I'm just tired, that's all." Ray faked an unconvincing yawn. "I'd better go. See you tomorrow night? You need me to bring anything?"  
  
"No, thank you Ray." Renny still looked troubled. "I'm going to the store tomorrow for a few things."  
  
"Okay." Ray stood and stretched with another yawn, genuine this time. "Just don't go walking all over the neighbourhood, you hear? No rescuing people, or small fluffy animals."  
  
"But if…" Renny stopped as Ray scowled. "All right, Ray. I won't."  
  
"Like I believe that." He grinned at last.   
  
*  
  
Renny wasn't there when Ray let himself into the apartment. Well, he had turned up almost an hour earlier than usual. With a sigh, he wandered around the apartment. It was so tidy it set him on edge. If he didn't know that Renny lived here, he would have sworn it was some kind of museum exhibit, everything was so perfectly arranged. The only thing out of place was the sketchpad and pencil on the floor beside the window.  
  
There wasn't anything better to do, so he went over and picked it up. Flipping through the pages, Ray was impressed by Renny's ability, and amused to see that the majority of sketches were of him. They'd been spending so much time together lately it only made sense. He ignored the small voice inside his head that told him there might be another explanation for it. There were too many reasons why he didn't want to think about  _that_  possibility. He flipped over to the last page and thought his heart was going to stop.  
  
It was him again, but not like those other sketches. This was a completed work, lovingly detailed, and definitely not done from memory. He looked down at himself, sitting naked but for a torn shirt and a pair of socks, his legs spread and drawn up, his cock standing erect against his belly. His mouth went dry.   
  
After a moment he sank to the floor, still clutching the sketchpad in his trembling fingers. It wasn't him. It couldn't be. That thought at least was clear in his head, and after a while he began to wonder… He staggered to his feet and began to search the apartment.  
  
There weren't many places to hide things, and after five minutes he'd looked everywhere he could think of. Until his eye strayed to the bed and he grinned suddenly. Of course. Where else would someone like Renny hide a porn mag? He eased the slim volume out from under the mattress and flicked rapidly through the pages.   
  
It was there on page fifteen. Ray studied the model carefully. Not his face of course, but the body… well it wasn't exact, but it was very close. The kind of body he'd like his to be if he could only put on maybe five or ten pounds. Eventually, his heartbeat slowed to near normal, but the churning in his gut and the tightness in his groin weren't showing any signs of dissipating. He closed the magazine and put it back where he found it.  
  
He shouldn't do this. He should just leave. But he didn't. Ray walked back to the window and picked up the sketchpad, still open on the last page. His heart started pounding again, and his arousal soared as he took in the details of the sketch again. Trying to decide what he should do was impossible, when his brain seemed to have shut down altogether. In the end, he listened to his body instead.  
  
When the door opened at last he was sitting on Renny's bed, wearing nothing but his socks, in exactly the same pose as the sketch. He fingered his cock furtively. Yeah,  _exactly_  the same pose. He met Renny's shocked eyes with all the confidence he could muster.  
  
"Ray?" Renny's croak was barely loud enough to reach him across all of three feet of space.  
  
It was louder than anything  _he_  could manage. Ray swallowed and licked his lips nervously as Renny stumbled across the room. He dropped to his knees beside the bed and reached out a tentative hand to touch Ray's face. Unable to speak at all, Ray caught him by the shoulder and drew him closer. Their lips barely touched.  
  
"Ohhh…" Renny's sigh brushed warm air against his cheek. He drew the other man close again.  
  
Something in that second kiss broke the spell that was holding them both captive. Suddenly Renny's hands were all over him. Ray barely had time to catch his breath before his mouth was seized and subjected to a prolonged and thorough investigation.   
  
If it had occurred to him to think about it, he would never have thought Renny was a virgin, in spite of his rather weird air of innocence; but he never would have expected this either. The big hands moved over his body with surprising delicacy, teasing and arousing; soothing when uncontrollable shivers racked him. It was exquisite. It was sheer torture. After a while there was only one thing on his mind… when was Renny going to… even so, the touch on his cock startled a cry out of him.   
  
Without so much as a glance in his direction, the sandy head lowered itself to his groin and began a new investigation. Every inch of his skin, every fold and crease, was licked and probed and teased into unbearable awareness of its own existence. Then Renny's hands got involved too… stroking up and down the inner surface of his thigh, massaging his balls, gently fingering the opening of his body.   
  
An eternity later, the firm grip on his cock was loosened enough to allow Renny's lips and tongue full access. Eyes closed, Renny slowly, excruciatingly slowly, ran his tongue over the length of it, pausing frequently to trace a wildly throbbing vein before resuming his upward journey. When he reached the crown Renny sucked it into his mouth without the slightest hesitation.  
  
Ray had to grip the sheets beneath him to stop himself grabbing the Mountie by the ears and plunging recklessly up into his mouth. But, after the tiniest pause, his good behaviour was rewarded. The lips encircling his cock loosened slightly and Renny took him all the way in, deepthroating him with all the expertise of a thousand dollar a night hooker.  
  
For the second time a cry was forced out of him and he couldn't hold back any longer. His hips surged up and Renny took it all, riding out the storm until Ray forced himself into some semblance of control. He leaned back against the wall, trying to relax his aching, shivering body. It started again, the long slow glide of tongue and lips up the length of his cock, the fierce plunge down again. Over and over until he was screaming for release. Literally screaming...  
  
A long bony finger plunged inside him, finding his prostate with pinpoint accuracy. Another scream was choked off halfway as his body rebelled against the impossible stimulation. He felt the heat surge up through his cock, out into the greater heat of Renny's mouth, and collapsed into a limp and shuddering mass.  
  
He must have blacked out for a moment. When he came to, he was buried beneath a vast and heaving weight. Confused sensations resolved themselves into a kind of coherence. Renny… on top of him, naked and aroused. A heavy burning brand ploughing against his belly… instinctively, he wrapped his arms and legs around his lover, responding with what little strength he had left in him. Renny's head was buried in his shoulder, breath scorching his skin, and he could hear muffled and disjointed bursts of speech that made no sense to him whatsoever.   
  
One thing was clear though. It couldn't last much longer. Renny couldn't. Ray found he was grateful for that. Even the slightest touch against his cock sent jolts of mingled pleasure/pain through his overworked nerve endings. Every part of his body was far too sensitive.   
  
Aware that he'd hardly contributed anything to the proceedings, he began to stroke the long muscular body and immediately Renny's pace quickened. Ray hardly had time to do a thing before it was all over. A stifled cry and the faltering pace were the only warnings, then the scalding heat of cum on his skin as Renny collapsed across him.  
  
After a stunned moment he managed to roll them so they lay on their sides, otherwise the weight of the larger man would certainly have suffocated him. Then he was content to drift for a while, allowing the heat to slowly dissipate and his body to recover. Beside him Renny seemed to be completely unconscious.   
  
He stared at the flushed and sweaty face from much closer than he would ever have imagined possible. Not a pretty face, not even handsome; but Renny had an appeal all his own. He stroked his fingertips over Renny's chest, toying with the scattered hairs that clung damply to his skin. With a quiet sigh, Renny rolled away a little and Ray's eyes drifted lower and were caught by the livid scars on his belly, darker even than the overheated skin.  
  
Somehow, without his knowing it, Ray was halfway across the room, his stomach tying itself in knots. He had to get out of here. He couldn't face Renny, not right now. His clothes were around somewhere… he found them and dragged them on with shaking hands, afraid that Renny would wake and catch him. But he didn't. Ray pulled the door closed behind him with a quiet click and ran, stumbling, for the stairs.   
  
*  
  
It was two days before Renny came to see him. At first Ray was relieved he didn't come, but when he opened his apartment door to see his large, miserable looking visitor, his heart sank and all he could feel was more guilt loading itself on top of what he was already carrying.  
  
Renny could hardly bring himself to raise his eyes from the floor. "Ray? Ray, I'm sorry… I didn't hurt you, did I?"  
  
He caught hold of Renny's denim jacket and dragged him inside. The last thing he needed was for his neighbours to hear this. "No. Of course you didn't."   
  
"Did I… you  _did_  want to… I mean… I didn't…"   
  
This was like watching someone torturing himself. Ray interrupted the stumbling query. "No, you didn't rape me. You didn't do anything wrong, okay? It was me. I shouldn't have done it, is all. It's my fault, not yours."  
  
"Oh." If anything, this seemed to make Renny even more miserable. He stared silently at Ray, waiting.  
  
He was going to have to tell Renny everything. Ray swallowed the sick feeling in his throat and turned away. "Sit down, will ya?" He waited until he heard the creak of his couch and then perched himself on the far end of it, as far away from Renny as possible. "I don't really know how to start… I mean, until the other day, I never even thought about us. You know?"  
  
He waited for a nod, then forced himself to continue. "I didn't wanna think about us. I didn't wanna tell you this… partly because I knew it would hurt ya, and partly because… it kinda makes me feel sick to think about it." He looked over at Renny's puzzled face and realised he wasn't being any more coherent that Renny had been. "It's  _my_  fault you got shot. When you called me, I didn't take it seriously. I didn't take  _you_  seriously. By the time I realised you were really onto something, it was almost too late. When I found you I thought you were gonna die."  
  
"Is that why you visited me in hospital?" Renny's voice was steady but very quiet. He stared down at the floor. "And helped me after I was discharged?"  
  
"It was my  _fault_  dammit! Don't you  _care_  about that?" Ray stared at the bowed head incredulously. "You nearly died because of me."   
  
A fractional lifting of one shoulder indicated disinterest. "You feel guilty about that."  
  
"Of  _course_  I do!" Ray couldn't keep still any longer. He practically leapt to his feet and started pacing. "Dammit, why don't you hate me? If  _I_  was you I'd hate me."  
  
"I couldn't hate you, Ray." Renny looked up at last and smiled faintly. "I wish you'd told me. You didn't have to do all those things. I wish you hadn't…" his voice broke and he took a deep breath. "It would have been better… I thought you were doing it out of friendship. If I'd known it was because you felt guilty... Is that why you let me… do those things to you?"  
  
Ray could only stare, appalled, as the blue eyes filled with tears. "Renny…"  
  
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked. I'd better go now." The long body unfolded itself awkwardly from the depths of his couch and Renny headed for the door.  
  
He couldn't let Renny leave like this. He didn't want Renny to leave at all. Before Ray could consciously make the decision, his body was already moving. He crossed the room and reached past Renny just in time to stop him opening the door.   
  
"Don't go, not yet." He leaned against it at arm's length, with Renny still trapped between his body and the door. "Please. I need to tell you something."  
  
The wide shoulders tensed, but Renny made no attempt to leave. "All right, Ray."  
  
"I  _did_  feel guilty, okay? I  _do_  feel guilty. I nearly got you killed, for God's sake." Ray took a shaken breath trying to get himself under control. "But I liked visiting you in hospital. I liked  _you_. I  _wanted_  to help you when you came out."  
  
He took hold of Renny's shoulders and gently encouraged him to turn around, then pushed him back a little until he was right up against the wall. "I  _wanted_  to make love with you. I didn't want to admit it to myself, but when I saw that sketch… I knew, okay?" Once again Renny nodded instead of answering. "It was afterwards… you were really out of it, and I was looking at you and I saw… I saw the scars and I just couldn't handle it. I freaked out. I felt like I was using you… that you wouldn't have made love with me if you'd known what I'd done." He raised his fingertips to touch the flat plane of Renny's cheek. "I felt like I didn't have any right to feel about you the way I did."  
  
He could feel Renny trembling. It was now or never. He reached up just enough to close his lips over Renny's for a moment. "I love you. And God knows I don't deserve it, and I don't understand it, but I think you love me. Don't go. Please don't go."  
  
"You can't…" Renny turned his face away from him, eyes closed. "Don't say that, Ray, please."  
  
"What, buddy? Don't say what?" More concerned than ever, he searched Renny's face, but found no clues there. "Don't say I love you?"  
  
A tiny shake of the head was his only answer. He kissed Renny again, on the cheek this time, and leaned against him. His hands slid under the denim jacket, caressing Renny's chest through his thin T-shirt and a tremor ran through the sturdy body. "Renny? Do you want me to stop?"  
  
Another tremor. "No."   
  
Ray kissed him, teasing at his lips with his tongue until they parted. His tongue slid deep into Renny's mouth, caressing, exploring, savouring the taste of him. Just a hint of spearmint toothpaste… he could have lost himself in that kiss forever, if it hadn't been for the ache in his body, and his awareness of the growing hardness against his hip.  
  
Renny was trembling fiercely now, but making no effort to move away. Ray trailed kisses across his cheek and jaw, briefly captured an ear lobe between his lips and then detoured downwards to tongue the hollow at the base of his throat. Renny's breathless little moan made the sensitive skin flutter beneath his lips.  
  
"Renny…" he pulled the T-shirt out of Renny's jeans and began to stroke the smooth skin beneath. A little higher and he could feel the tickle of chest hair against his fingers, then the crinkled hardness of an erect nipple. This time they moaned in unison.  
  
This quiet exploration was so incredibly different from the wild ride they'd had only two days ago, but it was perfect. If ever a man needed tenderness right now, it was Renny. There was something terribly vulnerable in his face, and in the stillness with which he accepted each touch. A part of him had wondered, over the last two days, whether it had been love, or only lust, that had driven him but now there was no doubt at all. As badly as his body ached for sex, his heart ached even more for the pain he saw in Renny's face.  
  
At last it seemed like Renny was going to respond. The big body stirred restlessly, still trapped between Ray and the wall. But he subsided again immediately. A quick glance showed him that Renny's hands were still pressed firmly against the wall, as if for support, right where they had been from the moment he'd put them there. He smiled slightly and pulled Renny's T-shirt right up his chest before the other man could move to stop him.  
  
He needn't have worried. Once again Renny made no protest, obviously prepared to accept whatever Ray would do to him. It was a frightening responsibility. He nuzzled the soft skin of Renny's throat a last time and then lowered his head to suck at one nipple while his fingers teased the other. A gasp from above his head made him hesitate, but then a large hand came up to cradle the back of his head, holding him close.  
  
It was surprising how that one little thing could make such pleasure sweep through him. Ray began to rain kisses over the broad chest, returning again and again to Renny's nipples, rosy and gleaming from his attentions. Renny's fingers were stroking his hair now, and his other hand came up to press gently on Ray's back. Encouraged he slid his own hand down between their bodies and cupped his fingers over the heavy bulge at Renny's groin.  
  
"Ray! Oh…" Renny caught his breath on a gasp. His body responded in spite of himself, pushing unconsciously into Ray's massaging fingers.  
  
Ray gave his nipple one last, gentle nibble and captured the generous mouth again. "I want you so bad, Renny… do you want me?"  
  
Renny nodded, his eyes wide and dazed looking. "Oh yes, Ray. Please…"  
  
They kissed again, urgent and hungry now, but Ray was aware that Renny was still holding back. He continued his gentle kneading of Renny's erection and before long he was on his knees, his face pressed to Renny's belly, his tongue slowly circling the shallow navel. He ventured lower still, kissing the stiff denim while his trembling fingers struggled with the metal stud.  
  
Eventually, he got it free and eased the zipper down. Then the jeans, pushing them downwards just a little to expose the starched white boxers that Renny always seemed to wear. The thick outline of his cock disappeared downwards into the leg of his boxers, trapped there by its own bulk and the confines of the shorts. Ray smiled to himself and kissed him through the thin cloth. His hands were moving over Renny's thighs and hips in slow firm caresses and he could feel the little involuntary shudders as his lover tried to maintain control. Maybe what he needed was to lose control…  
  
He pushed the jeans down even further and saw, with a jolt that went straight to his already aching balls, the tip of Renny's cock peeking out from the leg of his shorts. A tiny drop of pre cum was sliding down the inside of his thigh. Ray moaned softly, and captured the droplet with his tongue, tracing its route back up to the source. He licked the oozing slit and stroked his tongue over the swollen cockhead as Renny shuddered.  
  
"Ray! Oh, Ray… oh!" Renny's hands were back clutching at the wall as if his life depended on its support.  
  
Ray looked up into his lover's face. "It's okay, buddy. It's okay… just trust me…"  
  
Renny nodded and swallowed. He was still trembling as Ray slipped the edge of the white cloth a little higher and ran his tongue around the fleshy ridge that defined his cockhead, then closed his mouth around the whole tip, gently engulfing it.  
  
Quiet reigned for a few minutes as Ray licked and sucked, intent on giving his lover pleasure. His hands strayed over the thin cloth, feeling the heat of his body, the heavy roundedness of his balls and the solid bulk of his cock. It was far too much temptation for him to resist for very long. He transferred his attention to the single white button at the waistband of those boxers. It slipped free easily and Ray parted the cloth.  
  
He'd known what to expect this time, but even so the sight of those scars shocked him into immobility. Tears threatened to blind him and he blinked them away. Gingerly, as though it could cause pain even now, he brushed a fingertip over one livid mark. They would fade with time, become almost invisible against the pale skin, but they would never go away.   
  
"Ray, it's all right… you don't have to…" Renny's voice stopped on a faint gasp as Ray leaned forward and kissed the ridged skin.  
  
As if his kisses could somehow heal the wounds that were already fading, erase the pain that had passed weeks ago, he lavished his attention on every crease and pucker, caressing with his lips and tongue until he thought his heart would burst. Above his head Renny's breathing was ragged and uneven.   
  
"Now do you believe I love you?" He hadn't meant to say it, and saw the blue eyes evade his, unable to accept what he was offering. Well, there would be other times to deal with that issue. Ray turned his attention to the erection that was straining the tolerance of the white shorts.  
  
Renny was big. He'd seen that much, even in his haste to leave the other day; now he had the evidence that his memory was accurate on that account literally in front of his eyes. He slid his hand into the shorts and carefully disentangled the heavy cock from the hindering cloth.   
  
He'd never imagined anything like this. His fingers stroked up and down the long shaft almost reverently before enclosing it in his fist and drawing it down to his lips. Renny moaned as he kissed and licked the thick cock from base to tip with slow deliberation and then took it into his mouth. He sucked eagerly for a moment, then slid back and took it into his hand again, alternately pumping it and licking the sensitive cockhead until Renny was shuddering uncontrollably.  
  
"God, you're incredible. Beautiful." He sucked the cock into his mouth again, his fingers still curled around the base, squeezing rhythmically, feeling the heavy throb of Renny's heartbeat echoed in the hard muscle.  
  
Gentle hands pushed him away. "Ray? Ray I can't… please…"  
  
Startled out of his preoccupation, Ray glanced up into a face that was almost unrecognisable. He released the cock so he could stand up and take his lover into his arms. "Renny, it's all right, buddy. It's okay, I won't hurt you."  
  
"I know you won't Ray." The thin lips parted in a shaky smile. "But I might hurt you… I've never… never felt…"   
  
"Shh, it's okay…" Ray leaned against him and wrapped his arms around the much larger body. "You just tell me, okay? If it gets too much for you?"  
  
"All right." Renny relaxed against him a little.  
  
Ray smiled and kissed him. "You wanna go in the bedroom now?"  
  
To his delight, Renny blushed. "Yes, Ray. I'd like that."  
  
"Okay." He paused long enough to pull Renny's jeans back up and tuck his cock away safely, then took the large hand in his own. "C'mon."  
  
In the bedroom Renny's uncertainty seemed to fade a little and Ray lost no time in taking advantage. In moments Renny's jacket and T-shirt had been tossed aside, and his jeans and shorts were down around his ankles before either of them remembered he'd need to take off his shoes and socks. Ray dropped to his knees and hurriedly removed them.  
  
Then he took his lover back into his arms and proceeded with a manual examination of everything within reach. The solid length of Renny's cock twitched against his belly, a reminder that he shouldn't get sidetracked too far by the other enticing possibilities of that gorgeous body.   
  
With a regretful sigh, Ray drew back. "Bed."  
  
"Yes, Ray." The blue eyes were smiling shyly. He backed away in the direction of the bed, drawing Ray with him.  
  
They tumbled down onto it and it was only when he landed on top of Renny, and those large hands closed over his butt, that Ray remembered he was still fully dressed. Not for long… those big hands could be surprisingly agile, he discovered, as his shirt and undershirt rapidly disappeared. The feel of that hot, slightly sweaty skin with its sprinkling of hair against his bare chest was a wonderful revelation.  
  
"Oh God… oh,  _God_!" He stared thrusting against his lover and stopped with a moan of frustration. "Be right back."  
  
He rolled off the edge of the bed and stood, his knees showing a disturbing tendency to buckle, as he fumbled with the zipper on his jeans. Renny was watching him avidly as he shoved them down and kicked them aside, thankful that he was barefoot. He reached for the top of his shorts, the clinging variety that hugged every inch of his body, and hesitated.  
  
Instead of simply pulling them off, he ran his hand down over an erection that felt like it ought to be at least twice as big as usual, and watched as Renny's eyes widened. Good. Renny deserved a little entertainment… he ran his fingers around the top of the elastic at his waist before sliding them underneath. A soft moan, released quite deliberately, made his lover's jaw go slack.  
  
It would be easy to get lost in the sensations, but Ray fought to distance himself. It was a show; it was for Renny, not for himself. He stroked his erection slowly and rubbed his other hand over the cloth hugging his balls, pulling it tight so Renny could get an eyeful. When the urge to thrust returned, he eased back, withdrawing his hand and slowly peeling the cloth down, revealing himself inch by inch. Finally the shorts were puddled around his feet and he could step out of them and rejoin his dazed looking lover.  
  
The first touch of his cock against Renny's nearly sent him into overload, but he pulled back from the brink again, afraid of doing something wrong. Making love with the Canadian was like one of those Chinese puzzle balls, layer upon intricate layer and nothing went the way he expected it to. Every time he thought he knew what was happening Renny would baulk at something and he'd have to start over.   
  
But, for the moment at least, Renny seemed happy enough for them to twine their legs and thrust lazily against each other as they kissed. And while they did that, Ray thought about what he wanted. After a few minutes he rolled onto his back drawing Renny on top of him. Once again, Renny froze.  
  
"Renny? What's wrong, buddy?" He looked up into startled blue eyes.  
  
"Oh…" Renny smiled at him. "Nothing, Ray… I just didn't expect…"  
  
"What? You never been on top before?" It was just a joke but Renny blushed. "Forget it, buddy… c'm'ere…"   
  
He pulled his lover down into another kiss, but the exchange had started a train of thought in his mind. When they broke for air, he twisted around and reached for the drawer beside his bed. What he wanted was still there, and not past the use by date, thank God, though he hadn't needed them in far too long.  
  
Renny was watching in silence, but something about his expression started warning bells ringing in Ray's head. "You okay with this, buddy?"  
  
"Oh, yes… of course, Ray." His voice was hesitant.  
  
Maybe it was just nervousness. It was only their second time together… but suddenly Ray wanted that big beautiful cock inside him so bad it was driving him crazy. He tore open the wrapper and reached for his lover. Renny froze as he started to roll the condom down over his cock.  
  
He stopped immediately. "Renny? What's wrong? Tell me."  
  
Confusion spread over the long angular face. "I thought… you'd want  _me_  to…" his lips clamped shut for a moment. "I don't think I should, Ray. I don't want to hurt you."  
  
"Hey, you won't. Don't worry about it, buddy." Ray grinned up him and started rolling the condom again.  
  
A large hand clamped over his. "Please, Ray…" Renny was beginning to look really upset.  
  
"You won't hurt me. It's okay. This isn't my first time, all right?" He sighed, seeing no change in his lover's expression. "Why don't you tell me what's wrong, buddy?"  
  
Renny's face twisted and he looked away. "I… I've never… and I'm too… too big… I can't risk it…"  
  
"Hey…" He pulled the large body down into his arms, abandoning his plans for the moment. "It's okay, Renny. If you really don't want to, it's okay. I just dunno why you think that. You're big, but not  _that_  big, you know? And I  _know_ you'd never hurt me." He kissed the side of Renny's head, since his face was hidden in the pillow. "You've really never fucked anybody before?"  
  
The sandy head shook from side to side.  
  
"What a waste." He grinned as Renny's head shot up, a shocked expression on his face. "Man, I want you inside me so bad… I want you to fuck me so hard I get steam coming out my ears."  
  
"But I might…"  
  
He took his lover's face between his hands. "You. Won't. Hurt. Me. Get it?"  
  
"Yes, Ray." The blue eyes stared intently into his. "All right."  
  
They exchanged a long, deep kiss before Ray got busy with the condom again. Then, mainly to appease Renny, he spread a generous amount of lube over the sheathed cock. "Ready?"  
  
The next few seconds were unexpectedly nerve racking as Renny eased cautiously into him. As he'd expected, it didn't hurt at all, though he was feeling stretched, and fuller than he'd ever been before. His nervousness was all on behalf of his lover, who looked absolutely terrified. It was a relief when Renny came to rest at last, cradled between his legs, and they could both relax.  
  
"See, Renny? I'm just fine." He stroked the sweaty cheek and brought up his legs to wrap around his lover's waist. "Now fuck me, baby. Fuck me hard."  
  
He didn't, of course. It started as an awkward, tentative movement of the hips and slowly picked up. Ray reminded himself that, in this at least, Renny  _was_  a virgin. The thought made him feel curiously protective. But he made encouraging noises and, once the thrusting settled into a steady rhythm, he joined in, increasing the friction, driving faster, harder than Renny was willing to risk. The sweat was pouring off both of them, making their bodies slippery where they touched.   
  
"God,  _Renny_ …" he arched up into his lover, plunging against him, and Renny shuddered. "Oh fuck…"  
  
Finally it must have got through that it wasn't hurting him. With a groan, Renny began to thrust harder, and Ray abandoned himself to the urgency of the rhythm. He stretched out his arms above his head and gripped the edge of the mattress. "Harder… oh  _yeah_ …"  
  
He could feel the approaching end, but forced himself to hold back. Every second he gained was a second longer in paradise. It was the wildest, most intense lovemaking he'd ever known and he realised he was all but screaming his head off, while Renny's face was pressed into his chest in a hard breathing silence.   
  
It was that realisation that overthrew what little control he had left. He felt the sudden pulsing of his cock and his ass, and a choked cry from his lover, echoing his own, louder, yell. Then a plunge into chaotic sensation and darkness.   
  
*  
  
Ray woke with his lover in his arms to a chorus of aches from his exhausted body. Renny was wrapped around him like a kid holding his favourite teddy bear. It brought a smile to his face to think of it, but he seriously doubted Renny had ever had the comfort of a toy like that. He rubbed his cheek against the short soft hair. In just one night, he'd learned a lot about Renny.  
  
There were some things you just didn't do with him. Like talk about love. For reasons that he didn't like to think about, Renny simply didn't want to hear that word.   
  
And you didn't restrain him, not even to the extent of a gentle grasp of his wrists. Ray remembered, with a sick sensation in his stomach the frozen stillness that had resulted when he'd tried that. Even so, Renny hadn't protested, or struggled; he'd just waited until he was released and then acted as though the incident had never happened.   
  
It was too soon to start asking questions. He had no doubt, now, that the big Canadian loved him, even if he refused to admit it; but Renny didn't trust him. Not yet. Ray refused to think about the possibility that Renny might never be able to trust him. Somehow he would find a way to get past his lover's fear.  
  
His arms tightened unconsciously and Renny stirred against him. Even that brought a sense of pleasure and intimacy that Ray hadn't experienced in far too long a time. He smiled and kissed his lover's temple, then turned his head to look at his alarm. It was a quarter of eight, and he was due at the stationhouse at eight thirty.  
  
Swearing softly under his breath, Ray slid carefully out of Renny's arms, managing not to wake him. First things first… he headed for the kitchen and started the coffee, then back to the bedroom and through to the bathroom.   
  
He managed the shower in a spectacularly short space of time, decided he didn't need to shave today, and was halfway back to the kitchen, a towel wrapped around his waist, when the knock came. He dived for the door, afraid that Renny might wake.  
  
Immaculately dressed, as usual, Vecchio glowered at him. "You were supposed to pick me up, remember?"  
  
"I slept in. There's coffee in the kitchen." Ray turned back to the bedroom, mainly to avoid Vecchio.  
  
A quick rummage through his drawers left him with a choice of a crumpled T-shirt or a light grey sweater that was probably going to be too warm for comfort. The only pants he had were his black jeans, and he pulled them on while he thought about it. Obviously, it was time he did the laundry again.  
  
"Wow." Vecchio was standing in the doorway, a coffee mug in each hand.  
  
Ray followed his gaze to the bed. Renny was sprawled across it, on his back, the covers kicked aside. Even relaxed in sleep, he was spectacularly well endowed. A thrill of adolescent pride ran through Ray, though he ought to be well past that kind of thing at his age.  
  
He grabbed the mug and jerked his head towards the door. The last thing he wanted was for Renny to wake and find an audience in there. It only took a minute to drag on the sweater and then he was out in the lounge where Vecchio was waiting for him.  
  
They exchanged a wary look, then Vecchio grinned lopsidedly. "Are they  _all_  built like that? Damn Canadians…" he stopped abruptly, his expression becoming hard.  
  
"Damned if I know." There was no way he wanted to go there.  
  
Vecchio scowled. "You'd know as well as me. Did you really think I wouldn't figure it out?"  
  
He should have known it would come to this eventually. Just his luck that it had to be today. "We're gonna be late." He grabbed his shoes and socks off the floor where he'd left them last night and headed for the door. Then he remembered Renny. His brain felt like it had turned to Swiss cheese. "Shit. I'll be down in a minute. We can talk on the way, all right?"  
  
His heart was still pounding from the shock as he eased down on the edge of the bed and pulled his socks and shoes on. "Renny?" Ray touched the angular plane of his lover's cheek and watched as his eyelids slowly lifted. "Hey buddy."  
  
"Good morning, Ray." Renny yawned and blinked sleepily at him.  
  
"I gotta go to work now. There's coffee in the kitchen if you want it. Or whatever else." He felt his hand soften against the warm cheek, cupping it gently. "Will you be here when I come home tonight?"  
  
Renny blushed and nodded, a happy little smile hovering uncertainly around his lips. "If you want me to, Ray."  
  
"I sure do." He bent and kissed the firm lips briefly. "Take it easy, you hear? If you wanna just stay here and sleep, it's okay."  
  
"I could cook dinner for us. If you don't mind."  
  
Ray grinned. "Hell no, I don't mind. We're gonna need the calories, lover."  
  
Ignoring a blushing protest, he kissed Renny again and fled, before the urge to climb back into bed with him became too strong to ignore.  
  
*  
  
It didn't take too long to work out that he wasn't likely to achieve anything much today. Well, it wouldn't hurt to catch up on his paperwork anyway… Ray sighed and sipped at his third mug of the swill that passed for coffee in this place. It wasn't even ten a.m. yet. In the desk across from his, Vecchio tore a sheet out of his old typewriter and crumpled it into a ball with a curse.  
  
They  _hadn't_  talked in the car, which was probably the only reason they'd both arrived at the stationhouse alive. They were going to have to talk soon.  _Very_  soon, he realised, as Frannie and her brother exchanged a venomous glance. The two of them had already had one fight this morning and were obviously heading for another.  
  
Another crumpled ball of paper hit the edge of the trash can and bounced across to land at his feet. Ray picked it up and tossed it towards Vecchio's trash. His aim wasn't any better. Vecchio glared at him. He shrugged and turned back to his own work.  
  
It wasn't easy to ignore the muttered curses from Vecchio's direction, especially when he could hardly concentrate on the file he was trying to read. He kept his head down and his eyes on the typed forms, even though none of the words made any sense to him. From the corner of his eye he saw a blur pass by him and he heard the unmistakable thump of a large pile of folders being dropped on the desk next to his.  
  
"What the Hell is this?" Vecchio's furious voice made Ray look up.  
  
Frannie stepped back a pace, her hands placed defiantly on her hips. "You wanted the files on the Morton case? This is them."  
  
"I asked for the arresting officer's report, not the whole damn  _case_! Get rid of this mess." Vecchio's arm swept around flinging the heap to the floor.  
  
"I will  _not_!" Frannie's voice rose sharply. "You did it.  _You_  clean it up." She turned and flounced away.  
  
"Frannie! Frannie, you get  _back_  here, dammit!" Vecchio surged up out of his chair and headed after his sister.  
  
It was time to get involved before the hostilities got any worse. Ray followed hurriedly behind his partner and caught up with him in the hallway. "Vecchio! Hey, Vecchio! Wait up!" He grabbed the Armani clad arm and held on tight.   
  
"Let go of me, Kowalski." Vecchio's voice was low and dangerous.  
  
"No. We gotta talk." His grip tightened as Vecchio tried to jerk his arm free. " _Now_ , Vecchio!"   
  
"Here? Are you crazy?" Vecchio stared around the hallway at the people passing them. "You want the whole precinct listening in?"  
  
That got them both a curious glance from a passing civilian aid. "This way."  
  
Vecchio baulked when he saw where they were headed, but Ray hung on grimly until they were both inside and the door was shut.  
  
"Geez it's dark." He laughed nervously. "I can't believe you two spent so much time in here."  
  
Vecchio obviously wasn't impressed. "Whadda  _you_  know about it?"   
  
"I know that when I got here the whole damn precinct was talking about the both of you." He frowned at the memory. It hadn't made his new job any easier. "I didn't believe it at first. I mean, Fraser, he was so damn straight, and besides…" he thought about what he'd been intending to say and decided it was better unsaid. He dropped down onto a box and leaned back against the wall.  
  
Somewhat to his surprise, Vecchio did the same, sitting opposite him. There was just enough light for him to be able to see the outline of his partner's face. His head was hanging, his hands clasped between his knees.  
  
"Yeah? Go on."  
  
"…I figured if you were lovers, you wouldn't have just left like that. Without telling him." He still felt angry about that, he discovered. "It was a lousy thing to do."  
  
Vecchio sighed. "Yeah, it was. And why I did it is none of your business."  
  
"Maybe not." Ray hesitated. "You really hurt him."  
  
"I know." Vecchio's head lifted. "Don't complain, Kowalski, it gave  _you_  the chance to make it better."  
  
"It wasn't  _like_  that, goddammit!" He had to fight the urge to throw a punch. "Why did you act like such a jerk when you came back? Why did you run off with Stella? You could at least have waited till we got back."   
  
"Six months?" Vecchio laughed. It broke in the middle. "Why should I? You were doin' just fine without me."  
  
"We wouldn't have been away that long, if it hadn't been for you doing what you did. He didn't  _want_  to come back with you gone." Ray felt his frustration level rising. It seemed like nothing was going to get through. If they hadn't been working together for the past four months, and he hadn't got some of the measure of the man he was dealing with, he would have given up then. But he'd learned to respect the other cop.  
  
"Touching. Next you'll be telling me you didn't sleep with him."  
  
He laughed. "What, I look like some kind of saint? Of course I did. He's the most beautiful man I've ever seen. I love him, okay? He's my best friend. He's a good cop, and he's… I dunno… he's just  _good_. You know what I mean."  
  
"Yeah. So?" The edge had gone from Vecchio's voice now.  
  
"So he was lonely, and I was lonely and we both cared about each other. It wasn't enough for either of us. That's why we came back."  
  
"Wait a minute. Are you saying you didn't sleep with Benny until after…" Vecchio leaned his head back against the wall. Ray could see that his eyes were closed. When he spoke again, after a long silence his voice was almost resigned. "Oh shit."  
  
Oh shit. "Is that why you acted like that?"  
  
"Like a jerk, you mean? You could say that." Vecchio shrugged. "That was only part of it. I thought it was gonna be such a big deal, you know? Going undercover like that. I thought I'd finally made it. Was gonna get some respect. And it turns out that I was just bait."  
  
"Bait? For what?"   
  
"The Feds, they had another guy in there and Langoustini got too close, so they 'took care' of him. They could have faked his death. Explained it. They put me there so, if anybody else got wind of it, they could throw me to the Family and nobody would look too close at their boy. I was nothing."  
  
That sounded like something the Feds would do. Ray felt sick. "So what did you do?"  
  
"I found out who their boy was." Vecchio's teeth gleamed in the darkness. "I told him either cut me in on the action, or if anything went wrong, I'd drop him right in the middle of it. It worked… that was how I knew about Partello"  
  
Just thinking about the risk Vecchio had taken made his blood run cold. "They could have 'taken care' of you, too."   
  
"Yeah, maybe, but at that point I didn't give a damn. So there I was, up to my neck in the dirtiest dealing you can imagine. And I was damn good at it. I was feeling pretty pleased with myself, until Benny ruined it all."   
  
"It wasn't his fault! He was taken by surprise."   
  
"He blew it, Kowalski. He could have got all of us killed." Vecchio shifted restlessly. "Anyway that wasn't what I meant. I took the damn job so I could show him I was just as good a cop as he was. And as soon as I saw him I felt like he could see everything that I'd done, all the shit… I felt dirtier than I've ever felt in my life."  
  
Ray flinched at the defeated tone in his partner's voice. Suddenly all the things that had been happening between Vecchio and Fraser over the last few months were beginning to make sense.  
  
Vecchio's head was down again, and Ray didn't need to see the damp gleam on his cheek to know he was crying. Impulsively, he leaned forward, dropping to his knees. "Ray, he loves you. He wouldn't care about that."  
  
" _I_  care."  
  
There wasn't anything he could say in the face of such despair. Ray lifted his hand to touch the wet cheek, his fingers trembling. This wasn't anything he'd ever imagined happening with Ray Vecchio.  
  
Before either of them had a chance to decide what to do, the door opened. Ray blinked in the sudden light and finally made out the startled face of Benton Fraser. The silence was so intense, he could hardly breathe, then Fraser backed away.  
  
"Oh… I'm sorry. I was looking for… I'll just…" the door swung closed.  
  
The two men stared at each other in shock. Ray snatched his hand away and lurched to his feet. "Stay right here." He dived out of the closet without waiting for Vecchio to answer.  
  
Fraser was already halfway down the hallway and moving rapidly. Ray broke into a run and overtook him, skidding to a halt directly in front of the Mountie. "Fraser… look, it isn't what you think."  
  
"You don't know what I'm thinking, Ray." Fraser frowned at him.  
  
He laughed shakily. "Okay, it wasn't what  _I_  would have thought if I'd been in your place."  
  
"Ray, you don't need to explain anything to me."   
  
"Yes, I do." Ray grabbed at his arm as Fraser tried to move around him. "Frase, will you for God's sake  _listen_  to me?"  
  
Fraser's bowed his head in resignation. "All right, Ray."  
  
Now that he'd got what he wanted, Ray felt a sudden rush of fear. If he blew this… he pulled Fraser around and started walking him slowly back down the hallway. "We were just talking, Frase. I'm not interested in him that way, okay? In fact, I've got someone…" he stopped, blushing. He wasn't sure whether Renny would want their relationship made public.  
  
"Oh?" Fraser looked at him inquiringly.  
  
"Never mind about that. The thing is… well, he's kinda screwed up, you know?" He glanced over at Fraser but the Mountie's face was impassive. "He was telling me some stuff about when he was undercover. And other things."  
  
"Ray, please." Fraser held up a hand to silence him. "He… Ray… has had plenty of opportunity to get professional help. I'm sure there isn't anything I could do that a psychologist couldn't do better."  
  
" _Bullshit_ , Fraser." They were almost at the closet door. He stopped, turning to face his friend, desperate to get the message across before it was too late. "He doesn't need a shrink, what he needs is someone to tell him they can forgive him for the stuff he's done. Stuff he can't forgive  _himself_  for doing."  
  
"Even so…"  
  
"He needs  _you_  Frase. You're the best person he knows. If  _you_  can tell him he's okay he'll believe it." He held back a grin as that struck home with Mr Dudley Do-Right. He couldn't walk past the smelliest street person without trying to help them.  
  
While Fraser was still digesting that shot, Ray dragged him over to the door and opened it. Vecchio was still in there, still sitting on the box. He didn't even bother to look up. Ray gave Fraser a quick shove inside and closed the door again. Now all he had to do was keep them in there.  
  
"Ray? Have you seen…"  
  
"Over here." He whirled around and grabbed Frannie's arm.   
  
He managed to get her across the hallway while she was too surprised to resist. "Hey! Fraser's looking for you."  
  
"It's okay. I seen him." He grinned and jerked his head towards the closet door. "He's having a little talk with that brother of yours."  
  
"In there?" Frannie's eyes widened.  
  
"Yeah. Can you hang around? Make sure nobody goes in there? And don't let them come out either. At least not till you can smell the cigarette smoke." He grinned and turned to leave.  
  
"Benton doesn't smoke! And neither does Ray." She stared at him as he stopped and a broad smile crossed her face. "Oh, I get it! Okay, I'll keep an eye on them."  
  
"Great. Thanks." He started off down the hallway.  
  
"Hey, Ray!"  
  
"Yeah?" He kept walking.   
  
"You think it'll work?"  
  
Ray turned, but kept walking, backwards. "Don't know. If it don't I'm gonna have to bang their heads together."   
  
He waved a hand as he turned again. A quick glance at his watch told him it was nearly noon. The whole damn morning was shot to Hell… if he snuck out now, maybe Welsh wouldn't notice…  
  
*  
  
Renny was in bed, and still asleep, looking just adorable with his mouth slightly open. Ray grinned. He'd got it bad. Well there was no point in fighting it, and he didn't want to anyway. He shucked his clothes quickly and crawled under the covers.   
  
"Ray?" It was just a drowsy murmur. Then Renny's eyes opened a fraction and he snuggled close. "Is it evening already?"  
  
No. It's just about noon. I came home early." He kissed his sleepy lover and found himself enveloped in a huge embrace.  
  
They kissed slowly while Renny gradually threw off his drowsiness. After a strenuous night, it was a more than welcome change, and Ray found he liked the sweetness and the tenderness of it. He rolled Renny onto his back and began a languid, sensual survey of his lover's body. There was certainly plenty of it to explore.   
  
He rubbed his fingers over the scattered hairs on Renny's chest, enjoying the feel of it, and the contrast of the smooth nipples. Renny sighed and stretched against his hands. His lips skimmed across stubbled cheeks to the soft, sensitive skin of Renny's throat. His lover smelt deliciously of himself and of their lovemaking from last night.   
  
With a sigh of pleasure, Renny drew him closer and Ray rubbed himself back and forth against his lover's body. Even after the rigours of last night, they were both becoming aroused. Ray pushed himself up a little and smiled as Renny's cock lifted to press against his belly. He continued the slow rocking of his hips, watching the effect it was having on the flushed Canadian with some appreciation.  
  
But it was Ray who broke first. He slid rapidly down Renny's body to take the heavy cock into his mouth. The taste of him sent Ray's head reeling, and he sucked eagerly as Renny's body heaved beneath him. Once again it seemed as though they were both losing control far too soon. He took a deep breath, trying to regain control, and only partially succeeding. He ran the tip of his tongue down the long thick vein until he reached wiry, sweaty curls at the base of Renny's cock, then kissed his heavy balls, sucking gently at the loose skin.  
  
"Ray!" Renny's cry was muted by breathlessness. After that one word he was silent again, as he had been most of last night.  
  
Ray wanted to make him groan with pleasure, to cry out, to scream his name as he climaxed. Pretty much the way  _he'd_  done last night… His tongue drifted lower still and he slid his hands under Renny's thighs, lifting and parting them until they were folded back across the long torso. He found the soft, sensitive pucker of flesh and caressed it wetly. Renny gasped.  
  
 _That_  was the kind of response he liked. Ray grinned to himself and set about a slow unrelenting torture, not easing up until Renny was moaning breathlessly, his fingers clenched in the bedding on either side of his body.  
  
God, he looked beautiful like that… cheeks flushed, eyes heavy lidded and sensual, every muscle in his body save one slack with pleasure. Ray crawled up his lover's body to kiss those parted lips and felt his cock snag lightly against Renny's body. He dropped his hips, allowing it to slide down between Renny's legs, where it pressed eagerly against his balls.  
  
Immediately he forgot all his good intentions about winning Renny's trust. "Oh God, Renny… I want to be inside you so bad…"  
  
He bitterly regretted his words a moment later, when the blue eyes turned wary and disillusionment replaced arousal on Renny's angular face.   
  
"Of course, Ray." Renny slid out from beneath him. "Like this?" He rolled over, lying face down with his legs parted.  
  
"No!" It came out too sharply and Renny flinched. "No, lover…" Ray gently turned him onto his back again. "Like this. I want to watch your face when you come." He kissed the tense cheek. "It'll be good, Renny. I'll make it real good for you, I promise."  
  
A tiny nod was his only answer. Ray reached for the lube and the condoms, still sitting on the bedside table. He lifted his hips so that his cock slid up to nestle against his lover's. With a small blob of the lube on his fingers, he began to massage the soft opening while he rubbed back and forth against Renny's groin. Slowly the long sturdy body relaxed.  
  
Ray slid a fingertip into his lover. Renny accepted it easily, and he probed deeper, then added a second finger. There was no resistance at all, but that didn't surprise him. It was obvious that Renny had plenty of experience, but none of it seemed to have given him much joy. He was determined to change that.   
  
Ray stroked his fingertips across Renny's prostate and felt his whole body shudder. And again. He kept it up until Renny was gasping for breath and shaking helplessly. He dipped his head and trailed his tongue along the ridge of Renny's collarbone, tasting his sweat, before burying his face against Renny's throat for a moment. He fought desperately for control, and won it, after a moment.  
  
"You ready, lover?" He stared into Renny's eyes and saw the doubts there, but Renny nodded again.  
  
It took more of an effort than it should to lift his body enough so that he could roll on the condom with hands that wouldn't stop shaking. So much depended on this. It might be his only chance to convince Renny that it was even _possible_  for him to enjoy making love this way. He managed to smear some more lube over the condom, preferring to be absolutely sure he wouldn't hurt his lover, then guided the tip of his cock to the now relaxed opening. Renny watched him, his face neutral.  
  
"You tell me if I hurt you, lover. Promise me."   
  
"Yes, Ray." Renny still sounded rather breathless, which seemed to be a good sign, he thought.  
  
He slid in easily, and after a moment's uncertainty Renny wrapped his legs around Ray's hips. He stared into the distracted blue eyes, seeing pleasure mingled with fear, wariness mixed with arousal. It could still go either way, he thought. Slowly he drew back, then pressed forward again. The motion became a smooth glide, sending a hot flood of pleasure through Ray. He ignored it, concentrating all his attention on his lover.  
  
"Is it good for you, baby?" Ray watched Renny's face anxiously.  
  
"Yes..." the single word came out as a sigh. The blue eyes widened in surprise and Renny smiled tentatively.  
  
He couldn't help it. A big grin spread across his face and was echoed, faintly, on his lover's. He slid down a little and pulled Renny's legs higher, changing the angle of their bodies. "This is gonna make it better."  
  
Pressing deeper still, Ray felt his cockhead slide across the hard nub of Renny's prostate. He felt the shock of Renny's reaction in his own body as they both groaned raggedly, then Renny's body arched up against his. He responded instinctively, unable to hold back any longer, but Renny was there with him, matching his thrusts with counter thrusts of his hips. Renny's arms tightened, almost crushing the breath out of him and the sweat-darkened head was thrown back in abandonment. A hot gush against his belly and the firm contraction of Renny's ass muscles sent him reeling out of control.   
  
He lay across Renny's body, limp as a wrung out rag, and listened to the rapid breathing of his lover. Now that it was over, he realised just how much of a risk Renny had taken in allowing him to do this. He'd been hurt, badly, by lovers in the past; that much was obvious. It would be different with him. It had to be… he  _had_  to make this work and he would, whatever it took.   
  
His cock was still hard inside his lover and Renny's arms and legs were wrapped around him, holding him tightly. Then Renny sighed, straightening his legs and relaxing his grip. One large hand slid down Ray's back to clasp his butt cheek firmly. Ray smiled. It just didn't get much better than this.  
  
And one day he would tell Renny that he loved him, and Renny would believe him. He wouldn't settle for anything less.

 


End file.
